


tonight I'll need you to stay

by rosesandspades713



Series: because of you I might think twice [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader (whoops), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, General Shenanigans, Mute Frisk, Non-Binary Frisk, Post-Pacifist Route, Racism, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Soul Touching, Tags will be added as we go, magic ecto-dick, oh I'm marking the smut chapters with an asterisk just so y'all are aware, reader plays the trombone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 68,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandspades713/pseuds/rosesandspades713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's funny how life works.</p><p>What begins as an effort to get off your friend's couch turns into something more than you could ever have imagined. When you rented out that room you didn't just find a place to stay.</p><p>You found a home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my first (probably only who am I kidding) multi-chapter fic for Undertale! It's amazing how this stupid (wonderful) video game has kickstarted my drive to write again. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Oh, and if you can figure out what song the title's from? You get a metaphorical cookie.

“Are you ever gonna find a place to life or are you going to be a parasite on my couch for the rest of eternity?”

You look up from your computer at your friend Julie, who’s standing in the doorway of her apartment. You smile sheepishly. “I’m trying, okay? Not my fault the apartments here are so expensive.”

You’ve been crashing on Julie’s couch for a few days now, and you’re starting to panic. Just over a month before school starts, and you still don’t have a place to live. You love your college, you really do, but it only has enough housing to guarantee it to freshmen and sophomores. Now that you’re a junior, the housing rate for the few remaining on-campus dorms and houses has skyrocketed, and you just can’t afford it. So you’ve been looking into other options, with no luck. The town your college is in is practically a small city and rent isn’t cheap.

Julie sits down next to you on the couch, looking at your screen. “You’re on the town website?”

“I saw something on here about places for rent. It’s kind of my last option.”

As you scroll down the page, Julie stands up. “Want some coffee?”

“Please.” You keep scrolling, until you find a listing that looks promising. You click on the link and are brought to an online flyer advertising the third bedroom in a house close to downtown. Looking over the flyer, you can’t help but notice that the whole thing’s in a strange font. Is that… _Papyrus?_ Putting your concerns about the owner’s sense of design aside, you look at the pictures of the house. Not too bad. It actually looks kind of pretty. Glancing down at the price, you’re shocked. It’s so _cheap._ You look at the pictures again, and down at the price, as if it’ll change if you look away.

When Julie comes back with the coffee, you smile up at her. “I think I found the perfect place.”

* * *

 

You pull up to the house an hour or so later. When you called the number from the flyer, you had been met with a very enthusiastic voice practically begging you to come check it out. You walk up to the house, a little nervous. If this doesn’t pan out, you’re stuck on Julie’s couch for who knows how long.

It hasn’t been five seconds since you knocked on the door, and it swings open to reveal…a skeleton. You’re more than a little fazed; you’ve seen monsters around, they’ve been out of the Underground for a while now, no big deal. But it's different when one's standing right in front of you. 

The skeleton starts talking, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, human!” He’s very loud, even louder than you would have guessed over the phone. “I am the GREAT PAPYRUS, and I welcome you to our home! Please come inside for lunch!”

The graphic design of the ad suddenly makes sense.

You’re led inside by Papyrus, and find yourself in a living room. Another, shorter skeleton, is lounging on the couch, He waves at you lazily when you make eye contact with him.

“Ah!” Papyrus exclaims when he sees where you’re looking. “This is my lazybones brother, Sans!” He turns to face him and places his hands on his hips. “Sans! You told me you would be nice when the human came to visit! And look at you, not even getting up to say hello!”

You stare down at the ground, feeling uncomfortable. But then you hear Sans speak up. “Sorry bro. I guess I’m just _bone tired_ right now.”

You can’t help it. You let out a laugh, looking up to see Papyrus’ face in his hands and Sans’ grin wider than ever.

“That’s really a bummer, Sans,” you start, thinking over your words carefully. “I hope you _femur_ better.” Your masterfully crafted pun is met with a groan from Papyrus.

“I changed my mind!” he exclaims. “I do not want to rent out the other bedroom anymore.”

“Aw, lighten up, bro!” Sans says, getting up from his seat. “Our friend here can dish out a good pun, that’s all.” He turns to you. “I didn’t get your name.”

You introduce yourself, and Papyrus goes into the kitchen to get lunch.

“You know, I think we’re going to get along just fine,” Sans says. “Anyone who can appreciate a good pun is okay in my book.”

You smile, flattered by what you’re not even sure is a compliment. “Punnery is one of the finest art forms in this universe.”

Sans chuckles. “You’re telling me.” You move to sit down at the table, but he stops you. “Fair warning: my brother’s been taking cooking lessons for a while now, and I swear his food is right on the verge of being edible. Just…try to put on a poker face? I don’t have the _heart”_ -at this you let out a small giggle-“to let him know the truth.”

“Sure thing, Sans,” you agree. “I’m great at masking my emotions.” You sit down at the table, and are presented with a large plate of spaghetti that looks just fine. You glance at Sans before you take your first bite, and wait for it to hit. But…it doesn’t. It’s not _great_ spaghetti, but it’s not as bad as Sans made it out to seem.

You flash a big smile at Papyrus. “This is wonderful! The best spaghetti I’ve ever had!” He looks ecstatic at your words.

“Of COURSE it is the best spaghetti you’ve ever had!” he says. “Because I, the GREAT PAPYRUS, have crafted it with my own loving hands!” You look over at Sans; he flashes you a grateful smile.

You talk with the two skeletons as you all finish your plates, and when you’re done, Papyrus asks if you would like to see the rest of the house. You say you’d love to, and almost immediately he’s grabbing your arm and bringing you downstairs to the basement.

“This is our basement!” he says, gesturing to it. It’s completely empty, and there isn’t really a ceiling, to speak of. Just a lot of exposed pipes. “We…haven’t done anything with it yet.” He rushes you back upstairs, through the kitchen, past the table (and Sans), and through the living room, leading you upstairs.

“Here is MY bedroom!” Papyrus brings you to the bedroom at the right end of the hall. Peeking inside, you can see a variety of action figures and…a racecar bed?

“It’s very nice, Papyrus!” you reassure him. “Where did you get those cool action figures?”

“Santa!” You smile. You’ve only just met him, but Papyrus is the purest, kindest soul you’ve ever met. You can’t help but want to protect him from any and all harm.

“And this is YOUR bedroom!” He opens the door behind you. The room is pretty plain, but there’s enough room for the stuff you brought with you. You nod in approval. This will work just fine.

Papyrus gestures to a closed door. “That is Sans’ bedroom. It is always locked, but I am sure it is a horrible place nonetheless. My brother NEVER cleans his room.”

You think of a pun, but you don’t say anything. You’ll tell it to Sans later. You’re pretty sure he would appreciate it a lot more.

Papyrus shows you where the bathroom is and the two of you go back downstairs, where once again Sans is sitting on the couch.

“What’d you think?” he asks without looking up.

“I think I’d really like to stay here, if that’s alright with you guys.”

Papyrus looks like he’s about to cry. “R-really? This is wonderful! Isn’t it wonderful, Sans?”

“Yeah, really tickles my _funny bone_!”

You smile as Papyrus groans once again. You know you’re going to like it here.


	2. Moving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, look at me, keeping my promises!
> 
> This is it for the day, folks. I have a New Year's party to go to!

The next Friday, you move in. Julie was more than happy to take the boxes that wouldn’t fit in your car in hers. Anything to get you to leave faster. The two of you pull up to the house, and you see the door swing open as Papyrus bounds outside like a puppy. You smile. He must have been waiting at the door for you to show up.

You get out of your car and stand next to Julie, who’s put all of your boxes on the sidewalk and is now watching him intently.

“You didn’t tell me you were renting a room from _monsters.”_ You can’t help but feel funny at her words.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Your voice is harsher than you meant for it to be.

Julie immediately looks apologetic. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” She quiets her voice as Papyrus gets closer. “I just…it’s just different, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” you say as he finally approaches you.

“Hello!” He holds out a hand for Julie to shake. She takes it gingerly, only to have her arm vigorously shaken. He turns to you. “I have not met your friend! What is her name?”

“I’m Julie,” she says politely. She looks at you. “If you’ve got it covered here, I’m gonna head back home. See you at school?”

“See you at school,” you promise. “Thanks for letting me crash on your couch.”

“No problem!” She gets into her car and drives away, waving at you and Papyrus until she turns the corner.

Papyrus, eager to begin, picks up a box. “Where should I put this?”

“For now, just put ‘em all in my room. I’ll deal with them later.” It’s mostly clothes and books anyway. Nothing of immediate importance.

He takes off, practically sprinting into the house with the box. You laugh to yourself, and pick up a box yourself. When you look up, Sans is seated in one of the lawn chairs on the porch. You could have sworn he wasn’t there a minute ago. He glances up at you and smiles, saluting you with a flick of his wrist.

“You could _help,_ you know,” you chastise. “Instead of just sitting there.” You don’t expect him to move.

“Why?” he asks, confirming your thoughts. “I think you’ve got this handled.”

You roll your eyes at him and bring the box you’re carrying upstairs into your room, passing Papyrus on the way. When you come back outside and grab a second box, you see the door of the neighboring house open, and out steps another monster. This one looks more like a goat than anything else, but a very regal goat at that. Behind her pops out a kid, a human, who can’t be older than 12. They catch sight of you and the goat monster smiles, making her way over to you, the kid closely following her.

“You must be the human Papyrus told me about!” she says. “The one moving in with them!”

“That’s right!” you respond, introducing yourself. You can’t help but feel that you should be curtsying to her. You ignore the urge. “What’s your name, ma’am?” You wince a little at the ‘ma’am’ part, but it just slipped out.

If she noticed it, she doesn’t let it show. “My name is Toriel, and this child-“she gestures down to the kid who’s waving at you. “-Is Frisk.” You wave back. Frisk signs something, and you can make out from an ASL class you took in high school that they’re saying hello.

“Hi, Frisk!” you respond cheerfully. Frisk grins and turns to Toriel, signing too fast for you to catch anything.

Luckily, she translates for you. “Frisk would like to help you unpack, if that’s alright.”

You beam down at them. “That would be great! Papyrus is already helping me, but Frisk can take some of the lighter things if they want!”

Frisk grabs a box of clothing and dashes into the house, stopping to give Sans a high-five. You and Toriel follow them, albeit at a much slower pace. When you get to the door, Papyrus is coming out again, but stops when he sees Toriel.

“I see you have met Toriel!” he exclaims. “Maybe you can become friends as well!”

You laugh. “I’d certainly like to meet _all_ your friends, Papyrus.”

“Oh!” Toriel says. “That reminds me! Would the three of you like to come over for dinner tonight? It could be a celebration of sorts now that we have a new neighbor!”

Sans speaks for the first time since Toriel and Frisk arrived. “We’d love to, Tori. You know Pap can’t resist your pie.”

Papyrus narrows his eyes. “Last I recall, Sans, YOU were the one who ate most of the pie!”

Still grinning, Sans shrugs in response. “It’s good pie.”

“Well, I’d love to try it!” you say.

“Wonderful!” Toriel pulls out her cell phone. It looks…outdated. “I’ll invite Undyne and Alphys as well!”

You smile and head inside, passing Frisk in the hallway. They give you a thumbs-up and you smile back. You set down the box on your bed and head back outside, where Sans and Toriel are sitting on the porch, cracking jokes. You smile, knowing there’s another person out there who can appreciate the fine art of punnery. But you’ll have to catch up with them later.

You’ve got some unpacking to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter was very short. On the bright side, this is probably the shortest these chapters will ever get. 
> 
> See you tomorrow (maybe) with another chapter!


	3. Introductions, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I promised I'd have another one for ya today!
> 
> The response to the first couple of chapters has been amazing! Thank you to everyone who gave me kudos, or commented, or subscribed!

Three hours later, the boxes are all in your room and in varying states of emptiness. Most things essential for the night are unpacked and you’ve even started putting away some clothes in your closet. Figuring you’ll spread out the rest of the work over the next few days, you head downstairs, ready to go to Toriel’s house for dinner.

You find Sans on the couch (big surprise) and take a seat next to him, waiting for Papyrus to come downstairs.

“Toriel seems very nice,” you say to strike up a conversation.

“Yeah, she’s great.”

You brush back your hair with one hand. “You two seem pretty close.”

Sans smirks at you. “What, jealous?” Upon seeing your expression, he chuckles. “I’m kidding. But Tori and I? All we ever do is sit around and make puns. Not exactly what you’d call a deep relationship.”

Still a little in shock from his first statement, it takes you a moment to respond. “A-At least you have someone. That you can joke with, I mean.”

He nods in agreement, and the conversation tapers off. That is, until Papyrus bounds downstairs and forces the two of you off the couch so you can walk to Toriel’s house.

Papyrus hasn’t been knocking on the door for more than two seconds before it swings open, a fish monster ushering you inside.

“Hey!”  she says as an introduction. “You must be Papyrus’ new human friend. I’m Undyne, and this-” she points to the couch, where a small yellow (lizard? dinosaur?) monster is sitting, “-is my girlfriend, Alphys.”

“P-pleased to meet you!”

You wave at Alphys, introducing yourself to both of them. You want to talk more, but Toriel is calling everyone to the table for dinner.

Going into the living room, you find yourself steered into the middle seat on one of the long sides. Frisk hops into the seat on your left, and, by the mischievous glint in their eyes, you know who forced you to sit there. Sans takes the seat on your right, ruffling Frisk’s hair as he walks past them. Next to Sans, at the end of the table, sits another goat monster, even taller than Toriel, and with longer horns.

“Howdy!” he says cheerfully. “My name is Asgore.”

Asgore…You’ve heard that name before. You let it bounce around in your brain for a second before it connects.

“Oh!” you burst out. “You’re the king of the monsters!” You remember now; when the barrier first came down, Asgore’s name had been in the news a lot, as the human race learned more about the species hidden beneath Mt. Ebott. “I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!” you stammer as your brain continues to process everything. If the king of the monsters is dining with you, then who else is at this table?

Asgore chuckles. “You may call me Asgore, child.” His presence is so potent that you don’t even mind being called a kid.

Toriel interjects before you can embarrass yourself even further. “Asgore is staying with us until…other arrangements can be made.” You look up at her, and notice that she’s eyeing him with a stern expression. You can tell there’s bad blood there.

The brief silence at the table is broken when Frisk tugs on Toriel’s sleeve and signs something. Everyone laughs and upon seeing your confusion, Sans leans towards you and translates.

“Kid says they’re hungry.”

“Oh!” You look at Frisk and smile. “Me too, kiddo!”

Toriel gets up from the table and comes back a few moments later with a plate heaping with grilled chicken. She drops it off and comes back again with a pot full of corn on the cob. It’s a simple meal, but it’s got your mouth watering with one sniff. Frisk grabs the first chicken, and after that, it’s open season.

You’ve been eating for a few minutes when Toriel gets your attention.

“So ,” she starts. “What do you do for a living?

You notice everyone looking at you expectantly. The sudden attention has you a little uncomfortable. “Oh, I just go to school at the university in town,” you say, trying hard to maintain eye contact, even though you’d love to stare at your corn. “This is the first year I’m not guaranteed housing, and the on-campus options aren’t cheap, anyway. So I rented Sans and Papyrus’ extra room.” This earns an excited smile from Papyrus. You wonder briefly if there’s ever a moment he _isn’t_ excited. “I’ve been trying to look for a job too, but no luck.”

“A job, huh?” Sans asks. You turn to him. “I know the coffee place next to New Grillby’s is hiring. You could try there.”

Papyrus eyes Sans with suspicion. “And you would know this, brother, because…?”

“I like _tibia_ ‘round there.”

Most of the table groans, but you let out a quiet snort and Toriel giggles.

“I thought this was going to be a NICE dinner, Sans!” Papyrus complains. “Now you have ruined it with your silly puns!”

Sans’ grin grows larger. “Aw, Paps, I’m just _pulling your leg_!”

“STOP TOUCHING ME!”

The conversation proceeds in a similar direction until Toriel goes back into the kitchen to retrieve a beautifully crafted pie. When she enters the living room, the scent wafts over everything. You feel yourself drawing a deeper breath just to smell it better. She cuts everyone a piece, and you only wait for Frisk to take the first bite before diving into it.

It tastes like heaven. You can physically feel your soul leaving your body and drifting to the sky on a plane of ethereal deliciousness.

“Oh man, what’s _in_ this?” you breathe out after you swallow your first bite. “It’s _so good_!”

Toriel smiles at your compliment. “Butterscotch-cinnamon pie. It’s Frisk’s favorite.” Frisk turns to you and signs an excited ‘yes’ in response.

You laugh. “Well, it might as well be my favorite, too. I’ve never had pie this good in my entire life!” And you’re serious. No pie has even come _close,_ not even the apple pie your mom made every year for Christmas while you were growing up.

Sans nudges your shoulder. “Would you say it’s… _pieriffic_?”

Even you have to groan at that one. “Lame, Sans. Lame.”

He shrugs. “Can’t all be winners.”

After dinner’s finished, everyone stays at the table and talks for a while. You learn a little more about life underground (apparently Undyne was head of the Royal Guard?) and you learn that Alphys likes anime, to which you respond with several recommendations, none of which she’s seen before. You, in turn, tell the monsters a little more about yourself, talking about your younger brother back home and your classes at the university. You don’t realize how late it’s getting until Frisk lets out a huge yawn, stretching their arms and everything. Toriel is quick to wrap up the party and get Frisk up to bed, saying that it was wonderful to have you over, and to please come again. Alphys and Undyne pack up and leave, so you, Papyrus, and Sans decide to head out as well.

When you get back the first thing you do is head upstairs, so you can unpack some more of your clothes and get the boxes out of the walkway. At some point, Papyrus comes upstairs and says goodnight to you. You hear some noise from his room for a few minutes but then it tapers off. After about an hour, and more than a few instances of tripping over empty boxes, you decide you’re done unpacking for the night. Looking at the clock, you notice it’s only eleven.

You head downstairs, and you’re not surprised to find Sans watching TV from the couch. It looks like a game show.

“Hey Sans, mind if I watch this with you?”

He turns around; he must not have heard you coming. “Sure.” He slides over to one end of the couch and you take the other end. It’s silent except for the TV until he speaks up again. “Y’know, back in the Underground, we only had the one channel. Up here, you have _hundreds.”_

You laugh. “Yeah, but most of them are trash anyway. I prefer Netflix.”

“What’s that?”

You pick up the remote. “I bet you guys already have it on your TV, hang on.” Messing around with the menu, you eventually find it. “Ha! Told ya so!” You open the app, entering your email and password. “Okay, so basically the premise is that there’s a bunch of TV shows and movies you can watch whenever, as long as you have an internet connection.” You hand the remote to him and stand up. “Pick something. I’m heading to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

You use the bathroom and get a glass of water from the kitchen, and when you come back, you see that Sans is watching Cosmos. Smiling at his choice, you sit down again, settling into the side of the couch.

The two of you are silent for a few minutes just watching the show, until Sans pipes up. “I remember when we first came out of the Underground. It was sunset, and after a few minutes, we could see the stars for the first time.”

You’re silent, and you can’t help but feel that this is becoming an intensely personal conversation.

He continues. “They were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen, you know? There was this cave in the Underground, full of sparkling crystals. We used to pretend those were the stars. But the real thing? Beautiful beyond compare.” He falls silent, and you want to fill the gap.

“Sans, would you be interested in seeing the aurora borealis?” you say softly, trying not to disturb the mood.

“Huh?”

“The northern lights,” you explain. “It’s some sort of natural phenomenon, something to do with the sun? Anyway, they’re really pretty. If you’re in the right place, the sky lights up in all different colors. My friend, Julie, you know, the one who helped me move in? She took me to see them last year and it was really cool, I’d never seen anything like it before and…” You taper off when you notice you’ve been rambling.

Sans smiles softly at you. “That sounds great.”

You beam back at him. “I’m sure they’re happening again before the summer’s over. I’ll look into it.” You’re about to say something else, but you’re interrupted by a yawn. Seems that the long day’s finally catching up to you. You say goodnight and head upstairs, drilling it into your brain to remember to look up the northern lights.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Netflix.
> 
> I'll see y'all tomorrow with chapter 4, where things really start moving forward!


	4. Making a List, Checking it Twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sadly this is not a holiday themed chapter. i just thought the title was funny.

You wake up early the next morning, feeling refreshed. Probably because this is the first night in a while that you haven’t slept on a lumpy couch. Stretching, your eyes land on the pile of boxes you _haven’t_ gotten around to unpacking yet. You sigh, and peel off the blanket. You promise yourself you’ll put away some boxes before you go to bed tonight.

After pulling on some clothes you pull out of the top of a box, you make your way downstairs. To your surprise, Papyrus is up, too. You hear him bustling around in the kitchen and you walk in to find him furiously whisking some ingredients together in a bowl.

“What’re you making there, Papyrus?” He jumps a little when he hears your voice, but when he sees it’s you, he flashes a bright smile.

“Oh! Hello!” he says, focusing back on the bowl. “I am making pancakes! They’re not as good as spaghetti, but apparently spaghetti isn’t a breakfast food…” He trails off, his hand whisking the mixture around even faster.

“But!” he says, focusing back on you. “How did you sleep last night?”

You smile. “I slept great, Papyrus! Best night I’ve had in a while.”

He beams, and you can’t help feeling a little warm and fuzzy inside. “I KNEW you would like it here! I, the GREAT PAPYRUS, have worked very hard to make our home a nice place.” Hearing him use the word ‘our’ brings a smile to your face. The skeleton’s known you for less than a week, and he already accepts you as a part of his life.

“Do you want any help with the pancakes?” you ask. Immediately, Papyrus hands you the bowl and whisk.

“You need to KEEP WHISKING THIS!” he cries as he grabs a pan from underneath the counter. “Undyne told me the pancakes are better when the batter is very smooth!”

You’re a little surprised that Papyrus is learning how to cook from Undyne, but you shrug it off and do what Papyrus asked, whisking the mixture until Papyrus takes the bowl from your hands and pours it into the pan he’s prepared.

The two of you stare at the pan for a few minutes, Papyrus flipping the pancakes after a few. Finally, they’re ready, and he serves you two on a plate. You grab the maple syrup from the counter and dump an obscene amount onto your food. Spearing a bite with your fork, you bring it to your mouth and eat it.

“This is really good!” Papyrus smiles and takes a bit of his own.

“I still think spaghetti is better,” he says. “But this was a fun experiment!”

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, you speak up. “Papyrus, I was thinking of going to the store today to get some groceries. Is there anything you want me to get? Anything Sans might want?”

“Spaghetti,” Papyrus says bluntly. You’re not sure why you thought he’d say anything else.

“I’ll add pasta and tomato sauce to my list.” You snooped around in the kitchen yesterday while you were in the process of unpacking, and you’d learned that the skeletons didn’t have much when it came to a fully stocked fridge. You planned to go to the store and buy some cereal, some deli meat, and some bread. Maybe even some extra special things.

You’re still mulling over your mental list when Papyrus suddenly stands up.

“Forgive me, , I must go. Undyne and I are training today!”

You wave your hand at him, signaling that it’s no big deal. “Have fun!”

He shuts the door behind him and the house is silent. Glancing at your watch, you see it’s already almost 10. You’d expect Sans to be awake by now, but from what you already know about him, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d get up before noon. You guess he’ll have to miss getting things on your grocery list.

Heading to the car, you have a thought. Pulling out your phone, you search for New Grillby’s and get an address. Sans said the coffee place next door was hiring, right? Now seems as good a time as any to start trying to get a job.

* * *

 

Two hours later, completely exhausted, you practically drag yourself out of the grocery store, carrying what feels like your weight in food. You ended up going a little overboard, purchasing a lot of things you thought you might need that you knew the brothers didn’t already have. You pop open the trunk of your car and throw the bags in, getting the trunk lid to shut by what must be some form of magic.

Your major chore for the day accomplished, you look down at your phone again. The coffee shop’s only a few blocks away, and from what you’ve seen, this is a pretty safe town. So you take the short walk until you find yourself in front of it. Noticing the ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the door gives you an added boost of confidence as you walk in.

The first thing you notice is that the shop is very busy. Customers are crowding the tables and the line goes almost all the way back to the door. Looking forward, you notice the two baristas working are two monsters. Like Toriel and Asgore, they look like strange versions of animals. One looks like a cat, and the other one looks like…an alligator? Crocodile? You always get the two mixed up. Not wanting to add to the already monstrous line, you go to talk to the cat monster as she’s making some sort of mocha.

“Hi, um, can I speak to the manager?” you say. “I’m here for the…job offer?”

At the word ‘job’, her pointy ears perk up and she flashes her pearly (sharp) whites at you.

“Oh my god!” You try hard not to wince at the valley girl accent. “You, like, want to work here? That’s _so_ cool. I’ll go get the boss right away. She’ll be _super_ excited.”

She’s not gone for more than a minute before she comes back, followed by a woman not much older than you who looks positively _harried._

“You here for the job?” You nod. “Alright, do you have any experience workin’ as a barista?”

“I worked at the coffee shop on my college campus for a while last year,” you say. You wish you had something more substantial to offer.

The manager nods, looks you over, and nods again. “Okay. Sounds good. You’re hired.” You must look surprised, because she adds, “Not sure if you noticed, but on weekends like this, we’re swamped. I only have a few workers, and we’re spread out as it is. I can start you on weekday shifts to get you used to it, but you’ll probably have to work weekends just like this one eventually. Think you can handle that?”

You say you can. Even if you couldn’t, you’d still say it. You need this job. The two of you talk over some shifts for the next week, to ease you into the mix, and then you leave, a wave of relief rushing over you. That’s two big things taken care of in one day.

You’re so busy having a mental celebration of your successes that you run straight into someone. You apologize and look at them…only to realize that it’s Sans.

“What, did your eyes just go right through me?”

You laugh nervously and look away, a flush of embarrassment climbing up your cheeks. “I said I was sorry, okay?”

“I know,” he says. You turn back to look at him. “I was just going to New Grillby’s, wanna join me?”

Your stomach grumbles at the thought. “Sure.”

Sans smiles and leads you into the restaurant, signaling to the bartender (who’s a person-shaped flame?) who nods back at him. You follow him up to the counter, where he hops up onto a stool, patting the one next to him. You sit down, and the flame comes over to the two of you.

“, this is Grillby.” You wave at the flame, who returns the favor. “He’s one of my best pals from back underground.”

“Cool!” You smile at Grillby and pick up the menu in front of you. Glancing over it, you can see your options are limited.

“I’ll have a burger and fries, please!” You smile as you hand the menu back. “And _lots_ of ketchup!”

You see Sans wink at you from the corner of your eye. “A girl after my own heart. I’ll have the same.”

Grillby takes your menus, nods politely, and heads to the back. After a few minutes of silence, Sans turns to you. “So you were coming out of that café I told you about.” It’s not phrased like a question, but you can hear the inquisitive tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I went in there and the manager practically threw the job at me. I guess they really needed the extra help.”

Sans nods. “I’ve poked my skull in there a few times, and it’s almost always packed. I knew they needed all the help they could get.”

You smile. “I can’t thank you enough for the suggestion, Sans. Now I’ve got a place to stay _and_ a stable income.”

“Heh, glad I could give you a _leg up._ ” He pokes you in the thigh for emphasis, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Better step up your game, bone boy,” you mutter.

There’s silence between the two of you and you pull out your phone...which reminds you of something. Shooting a glance at Sans, you google the northern lights predictions for the next few weeks.

“What’s up?” he asks when you make a noise of victory.

You grin at him. “The next best time to see the northern lights is on Tuesday night! We can go see them!”

He nods in recognition, and you launch into a detailed explanation of your plans. “We can make a big deal out of it! Pack sandwiches, make cookies, it’ll be a picnic! And we’ll _have_ to bring blankets, I don’t care if it’s summer, it still gets cold at night. And…” you trail off when you notice he’s staring at you. “...What?”

“You talk a lot when you’re excited.”

“Oh…” you say, looking down at your hands. You feel heat radiating of your face. Jesus Christ, you’re blushing.

“But it sounds like a really good idea,” he says, drawing your gaze once more. You think you see a tinge of blue where his cheeks would be, but you shake it off as your imagination. “Bound _tibia_ good time.”

As you groan at his (unfortunately well-placed) pun, you feel something stirring in the back of your mind. It’s warm and insistent, and all of a sudden it hits you.

Oh no. You glance over at Sans, who’s laughing to himself, and the feeling gets stronger.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same, Reader. Same. 
> 
> I hope you guys are ready for the next chapter, because some shit WILL go down.
> 
> See ya later!


	5. Starry Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last hurrah before I head back to school tomorrow! 
> 
> Also, because I keep forgetting and it actually becomes relevant in this chapter: the story takes place in northern-ish Minnesota. No real reason why, I just needed a place in my head when I was writing. Keeps me grounded, and whatever. It's weird, because I don't even live in Minnesota. I just really like it there.
> 
> I think you guys are really gonna like this chapter.

Tuesday morning, you’re up early again, practically vibrating with excitement. With no other way to spend your energy, you make a simple breakfast of eggs and toast before Papyrus wakes up (he’s a little upset that you didn't wake him up to help) and pace around the kitchen, taking small bites of food until Sans shows up downstairs, his beady eyes betraying how tired he is.

Ignoring this, you bound over to him like an excited puppy, and force him to sit down at the table. As you’re fixing up his plate, you explain.

“Eat up Sans, we need to go to the store to get supplies for later.”

Papyrus, excited to eat at the table with his brother, pipes up. “What are you two doing? May I join you?”

Before you can respond, Sans speaks. “We’re gonna be out pretty late, Pap. Past your bedtime.”

He looks put out for a moment, but then his signature smile returns. “That’s fine! I’m going to have a play date with Frisk, who is my BEST FRIEND, anyway.”

You smile at him as you set Sans’ plate down. “I’m glad! Have fun, Papyrus!”

He leaves the table, and with all other distractions removed, you focus on Sans, willing him to eat faster with your mind. He eventually finishes, and you practically drag him out the front door and into your car.

“Explain to me again why I have to come shopping with you,” he grumbles, chin tucked into the front of his jacket.

You roll your eyes. “Because I’m not picking out food only for you to hate it. This is supposed to be a fun night for you, in every sense of the word.”

“The lights’ll be enough to make my day,” he mutters. You ignore him, and the two of you are silent the rest of the way to the store.

When you pull up to the store, Sans draws up his hood, pulling the drawstrings tight so some of his face is covered.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugs, opening the car door. “Not all humans like seein’ monsters around.”

His words register with you as you get out of the car. You know the transition into human society hasn’t been completely pleasant for monsters. But this isn’t a big city. You haven’t heard of many monster-related crimes being committed here, if any at all.

“I think we’ll be okay,” you say, stuffing your hands in your pockets as the two of you walk inside. “You’re with me, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The only answer you get is a noncommittal grunt and you decide not to press the issue any longer.

* * *

 

“So what kind of sandwich do you want?” you ask him as you push a cart around the store.

“Eh, whatever you’re getting is fine.” You sigh. You wish he’d be a little more into this, but from what you know about him, you’re not surprised.

“How about tuna sandwiches, then?” you suggest, pointing to a few cans on the shelf behind Sans.

He shrugs his shoulders. “As long as you don’t tell Undyne.”

You take that as a yes and add a few cans to your cart. You also take a detour down the chips and crackers aisle and pick up a bag of Goldfish. Goddamn you love Goldfish.

As the cashier’s swiping your items, you see a little kid no older than 6 out of the corner of your eye. She’s staring at Sans, who’s noticeably bothered. You’re about to say something to her, but she beats you to it.

“Are you a skeleton man?” she asks in a small voice, tugging on Sans’ sleeve. He shoots a quick glance at you and you give him a look of encouragement. He looks down at the girl and slowly nods.

She breaks out into a toothy smile. “I _love_ skeletons! My momma has one in her classroom and she teaches me about all the bones!” The kid pats her knee. “This one’s called the patella!”

Sans grins. “You’re _patellin’_ me, kid.” She giggles and you have to bite back a laugh. Watching Sans interact so well with a little kid makes that feeling rise up in you again. You tell it to fuck off.

After you’re done checking out, the two of you head back to the house. Papyrus is already gone for his play date, but he was nice enough to leave a (still warm) spaghetti dish on the table for your lunch. You and Sans split it, and then you get to work, preparing for the night’s shenanigans.

At least, _you_ get to work. Sans plops himself down on the couch, and you don’t feel like mustering up the effort to bother him about it.

To make the tuna sandwiches, you take mayonnaise and the canned tuna and mash it together in a bowl. Since it’ll be easier to keep the sandwiches fresh if you make them right before you eat them, you cap the bowl and stick it in the fridge.

Next, the cookies. Recalling your mother’s famed recipe for chocolate chip, you pull down the necessary ingredients from the pantry, mentally thanking your past self for remembering to buy Crisco.

You prepare the dough and get the first batch in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes. With nothing better to do, you pop out into the living room and watch TV over Sans’ shoulder until you hear the timer go off.

Repeat twice, and all the cookies are cooling on racks. You steal a couple while they’re still gooey, and offer one to Sans, who gives you a thumbs up after the first bite.

“My mom’s recipe never disappoints,” you say with a smirk.

You wait an hour and stuff the hardened cookies into a bag. You know a few will break, but oh well. They still taste like cookies. You check the clock over the stove when you’re done and, to your surprise, it’s only 5. Plenty of time before you have to leave.

You go upstairs and strip the blanket off your bed and grab a couple of fuzzy ones from your closet for extra warmth. Briefly you wonder if Sans even gets cold, but you pack a blanket for him anyway. In a moment of brilliance, you grab the pillows from your bed. Hey, if they stay on the blanket, they’ll stay clean.

On your way to put the supplies in the car, you see Sans _still_ watching TV. You don’t think he’s moved an inch since you last passed him. Struggling, you haul everything out and manage to shove it inside the trunk. Everything except for the food, which you put in the backseat.

Heading back inside, you let Sans know everything’s ready to go.

“Okay.”

“So, can we leave now? You done with the TV?”

“Mmhmm.”

“...You’re not getting up.”

“What can I say, I’m-”

“If you finish that sentence with _bone tired_ I am leaving you here.”

Defeated, Sans finally stands up and turns off the TV. You double check the kitchen to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything and then the two of you head outside to the car.

The drive out of town is pretty quiet. You say some things back and forth, but Sans mostly stares out the window and you’re trying to focus on driving.

“There’s another lake,” he points out as you cross another bridge. “That must be the tenth one I’ve seen.”

“They don't call Minnesota the land of 10,000 lakes for nothing,” you say.

“No shit.”

You nod your head in agreement. “There's actually more than that, though. Like 11,500 or something like that.”

“Hard to believe the whole place isn't covered in water.”

Eventually, you find the exit you’re looking for. You leave the freeway and drive up a hill for a while until you find the park you watched the lights from with Julie. Turning off the car, you tell Sans to grab the food and head to the back to grab the blankets and pillows.

Okay, maybe you _didn’t_ need to bring all those blankets. You’re struggling to _hold_ them all, much less carry them to the picnic spot.

“Need a hand with that?” Sans is behind you and you jump a little.

“That would be great,” you grunt out. “If you could just…” Your words die in your mouth.

The blankets and pillows are _floating._

Wrapped in a blue glow, they’re frozen in the air. Whipping around to face Sans, you see a blue light in his left eye you’ve never seen before.

He notices your stare. “Neat trick, huh?”

“No wonder you’re so lazy,” you breathe out. He just chuckles and you lead him to the picnic spot. He releases his hold on the stuff and everything tumbles onto the grass. So much for clean pillows.

You spread out the base blanket and Sans sets down the food on top of it. The two of you take a seat and you bring out the sandwich supplies, opening the container of tuna mix.

“So, what else can you do?” you ask as you spread the mix onto a piece of bread. “You can levitate things, what else?”

“Eh, basic stuff. I can teleport.”

Some things from the time you’ve spent around him are starting to make a lot more sense.

“This magic thing, is it something that all monsters have?” You’re not sure if you’re prying too much. Taking a few bites of your sandwich, you wait for his answer.

He shrugs, putting together his sandwich. “I guess. Most of us have it in some capacity or another. For a lot of people, it’s little stuff. Basic healing magic, extra luck, that kind of thing.”

You nod in understanding. “And your powers? Where do they fall?”

“I guess you could say I’m more powerful than most.”

“I bet. Levitation? Teleportation? Cool stuff.”

Sans lets out a small breath. “Heh, I guess.” You can sense something hiding in his tone, but you can’t piece together what it is. Shrugging it off, you reach for the bag of Goldfish and start trying to open it, only to stop when you see lights reflected off of the plastic packaging.

“There they are, look!” You drop the Goldfish and point up at the sky, but Sans is already captivated. Looking up for yourself, you see the sky lit up with a swath of blue, purple, and green. No matter how many times you see the sky come alive this way, it never fails to awe you into silence.

You sit there in contentment for a few minutes before you feel a stirring at your side. Your mind snapping back into reality, you realize you’ve been leaning into Sans, your head resting on his. Moving away from him, you look down, a flush creeping up your face.

“Hey, no need to give me the _cold shoulder_!” Unable to stop yourself from giggling, you look back over at Sans, who’s now lying down on the blanket. He pats the space next to him. You grab a pillow and join him on the ground, the grass below the blanket providing a much needed cushion. Trying to ignore the flaming blush on your face, you stare up into the shimmering colors. Sans lets out a sigh of contentment, and you feel your body relax.

“, how long do the lights usually last?”

You think back to what Julie told you and what you’ve read yourself. “Um, it depends. I think they can last anywhere from a few minutes to the whole night, honestly. The internet said this was a strong one, so it’ll probably last a while.”

Sans nods, and the two of you go silent. The lights above are like a comforting nightlight, and it’s not long before your eyes get heavy and you can feel yourself floating away…

* * *

 

The first thing you notice when you stir is the light weight coverings your body. Not wanting to open your eyes yet, you feel around with your hands and realize there’s a blanket on top of you. You slowly open your eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, and look around. Sans is still lying right next to you, staring up at the sky, completely enraptured. You smile, knowing that he’s really enjoying this. You’re so glad you took him out here with you.

After watching him for a minute, you sit up and gently push the blanket off of your torso. Sans turns to you, and you smile sheepishly.

“I’m really sorry I fell asleep,” you say. “I swear I didn’t mean to.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” he says. He reaches into the bag of cookies you brought. “Want one?”

“Please.” You take the cookie and bite into it. Not as good as it was fresh, but still pretty good.

Sans is eating one, too. “You know,” he says between bites. “I changed my mind. These cookies aren’t all that great.”

You’re shocked. “ _Excuse_ me?”

He holds up the bag. “They’re kinda _crummy,_ if you know what I mean.”

It takes you a second to get it, and when you do, you smack yourself on the forehead and fall back onto your pillow. “That was _terrible.”_

After a moment’s recovery from his awful pun, you sit back up again and push the blanket off your legs. You immediately regret it. It’s _freezing_ for the middle of August.

Seeing you shiver, Sans’ face displays a trace of concern. “Are you cold?”

“I’ll be f-fine,” you say, as your body lets loose another shiver, betraying you. He shakes his head and takes off his blue coat, offering it to you.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “Won’t you be cold?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Nah, the cold just-“

“Goes right through you?”

Sans shoots you a wink. “Exactly.”

The two of you continue to put a dent into all the food you brought for another hour or so until the lights taper off, the last vestiges of color leaving the sky a deep blue, peppered with stars.

“What did you think?” you ask Sans as the two of you (okay mostly Sans with his fancy power) bring the stuff back to you car.

He shoots you a big grin. “That was amazing.”

You smile back at him. “That’s what I thought when Julie took me to see them. It’s crazy to think that something so beautiful can happen just because the Sun burns off a little extra gas.”

When you turn the car back on, the clock reads 2:14 AM. Late. You’re glad for your impromptu nap as you drive back to the house, awake enough to keep you from crashing.

When you get back, you say goodnight to Sans and go upstairs, collapsing onto your bed without even trying to go through your nightly routine.

Your last thought before you slip into unconsciousness is of Sans’ smile when he watched the lights flicker, and the feeling in your stomach you get whenever you look at him.

* * *

 

Sans doesn’t go up to bed when you do. Not much of a point, he won’t be getting much sleep anyway. Instead, he goes outside into the backyard, sitting on a chair on the deck and looking up at the sky for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

The lights really were beautiful, he thinks to himself. He’s so grateful to you for showing them to him. He thinks of you, your enthusiasm for the lights, your determination to bring him along, the way you looked when you fell asleep, curled up against him, your face flush against his ribcage (he’ll never tell you that you did that). There’s a new sensation tingling in his bones, and although he’s not sure what to make of it, he thinks he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Sans that can talk to little kids is the best kind of Sans, tbh.
> 
> I might not be able to post a chapter tomorrow, Mondays are really busy for me. I will certainly try, but don't hate me if I can't update until Tuesday, okay?
> 
> A huge thanks once again for everyone who's left me a comment or a kudos. Y'all keep me going!


	6. Just Desserts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter titles are hard. sue me
> 
> (please don't actually sue me i am very small and i have no money)
> 
> Also, this chapter is short! I am very sorry about this! However, have no fear! The next few updates should be much longer!

You wake up a few mornings later with an unmistakable feeling of dread in your heart. Reaching for your phone, you check your email. Sure enough, there it is.

                _Dear Prospective Jazz Band Members,_

_Audition music for the upcoming season is now online! Tryouts will be the first and second day of class at 6 PM in the jazz room._

_Good luck, and get practicing!_

You groan and slam your head back into the pillow. Every year the audition music is literal hell, and every year you’ve missed out getting into the top jazz group. With a resigned sigh, you log into the website and click on the link for the music. Squinting down at your phone, you look over the Trombone 2 part. You’d briefly glanced at the Trombone 1 part, but looking at the first line was enough to make you nope the fuck out of there. Trombone 2 on the other hand, much more manageable.

As your eyes skim over the notes, you start trying to figure out the rhythms in your head. Huh. This might not be that bad. If you work hard enough and practice a couple times, you might make it in. You glance over at your trombone case, pushed into the corner. No time to start like the present.

You use the brothers’ computer to print off the music (nothing frustrates you like reading off of a phone screen) and head down to the basement with your trombone. You hope two stories of house is enough to muffle the sound. Besides, it’s nine. Not too early to wake up.

After blowing the cobwebs out of your horn, you muddle through the music. At one point, you have to pull out your phone and listen to a recording because god _damn_ those rhythms.

You persist for a while longer, and by the end, you think you’re doing okay. Sure, there’s a section in the middle you’re currently avoiding with a ten foot pole, but that’s fine. You still have a while before classes start. After packing up your trombone, you head back upstairs, only to be met with enthusiastic applause.

“That was WONDERFUL,” Papyrus exclaims. You didn’t realize he was listening.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

Papyrus shakes his head. “Nope! I didn’t hear anything until I walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. So then I STAYED there to listen!”

You blush a little, out of embarrassment. “Sorry for your ears. Wait, you don’t have ears. Oh…”

“What is there to be sorry for? That was GREAT, almost as great as I am!” Papyrus offers you a plate of spaghetti with…maple syrup on top of it. “I made breakfast spaghetti!”

“Thanks.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen, and pick your way through his new concoction.

“You know,” he starts, cleaning up from cooking. “Sans plays the trombone, too!”

“Really?” you ask. You think about it for a second. Trom- _bone._ You narrow your eyes. “Actually, I’m not that surprised.”

“ ‘M not as good as you, though.” You whip around and there’s Sans, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

You groan. “You hear me, too? Might as well announce it to the whole world. Mediocre trombone player, will play for food!” Sighing, you turn back to your food.

Sans slides in across from you, accepting a plate of breakfast spaghetti from Papyrus. “Why do you say you’re mediocre?”

You twirl a bit around with your fork. “Every year, I try to get into the top jazz group at school, and every year, I flub up the audition. Mediocre.”

He raises an eyebrow (how??) at you. “What I heard wasn’t mediocre, kid.”

“Sans would know!” Papyrus interrupts. “Even if he NEVER practices, the lazybones.”

You look down, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. “Thanks, I guess. I just…really want to make it into the top group this year.”

“I bet you will,” Sans says.

You straighten up and look at the clock. 10:39. You have a shift at the café today from 2 to 6.

“I’m taking a shower,” you say as you head upstairs. “Thanks for clearing my place for me, Sans.”

The indignant grunt you hear behind you makes you crack a smile.

* * *

 

“You’re seriously going to walk me to work?”

Sans shrugs, his hands in the pockets of that blue sweatshirt. “I’m going to New Grillby’s anyway, might as well.”

You’re flattered at the gesture, but it seems a little weird to you. Eh, whatever. You shrug it off, and the two of you start out.

“So how’s the job going?” he asks as you walk down your street.

You flash him a smile. “It’s really great! I know what I’m doing, I haven’t made a mess yet, I’m practically the world’s best barista!” In a moment of daring, you put your arm around his shoulder. “And it’s all thanks to you, Sans. To think, because of you and Pap, I have a house _and_ a job.”

“Heh, don’t sweat it,” he says. He makes no move to shake off your arm, so you leave it there. “I’m sure you woulda gotten a job eventually. I just pointed you in the right direction.”

You give his shoulder a small squeeze and finally let your arm drop. “If you say so.”

A minute or so passes in silence…until you decide to break it.

“Knock knock.”

“…Who’s there?”

“Interrupting ghost.”

“Interrupting ghost w-“

“BOO!” you shout at him.

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “That was okay, kid, but it needs work.”

You pull a leaf off a maple tree and wave it in Sans’ face. “Aww, _leaf_ me alone, bone boy.”

“Better,” he says. “But I don’t think you _cone_ take me.”

You turn to face him, only to be pelted with a pinecone to the arm. Your eyes narrow.

“You wanna go?”

* * *

 

Somehow, miraculously, the two of you make it to the café in one piece. Saying you’ll see him back at home, you head inside, and Sans heads…not next door. Maybe he’s making another stop first?  Shrugging it off, you go into the back to put on your apron and your nametag.

Four hours later, your shift is done. Looking at the long line of customers waiting for Catty (the cat monster), you pause for a moment. You feel sympathy for her plight, but not nearly enough to stay and help. Wishing her good luck, you leave the café and start walking home.

It’s strange, but without someone to keep you company, you can’t help but feel eyes on your back, like someone’s watching you. The prickly feeling goes away after a minute, and you make it home without incident.

When you open the front door, a glorious smell washes over you. What _is_ that? You take off your shoes, and there’s Papyrus, watching something on the TV.

“Sans wouldn’t let me help!” he pouts when he sees you. Help with what? You’re about to voice the question when Sans comes rushing out of the kitchen, a big smile on his face.

“What’s going on, Sans?” you ask, confusion clear in your tone. He offers no response, only beckoning you to follow him back into the kitchen. You do, and you’re amazed at the sight in front of you.

“Did-did you _make_ this?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yup.”

You look at the cake in front of you. It’s covered in chocolate frosting, and the icing…it’s the northern lights. It’s not perfect, some of the colors are smudged, but it looks amazing anyway. The gesture is so _sweet._ When you look up, there’s tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Sans, why is our human friend crying? Did you hurt her?” Papyrus must have come in while you were busy staring at the cake.

You laugh, a single tear rolling down your cheek. “No, Pap, I’m just s-so _happy_!” You turn to look at Sans, who’s giving you such a gentle smile. “No one’s ever done anything so nice for me before! Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, you showed ‘em to me.” He gestures at the icing. “This was the least I could do.”

“It was too much,” you tell him, unable to banish the smile from your face. “Let me take a picture before we eat it.” You make Sans stand next to his creation, and the picture becomes your new lock screen. Papyrus takes over cutting the cake, and gives each of you a generous helping.

Sitting down at the table, looking across at Sans, eating the cake that is even more delicious than it looks, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same way that you do.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. I wonder.
> 
> If you can't tell yet, I really, really love desserts.
> 
> Catch ya next time!


	7. Externalities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back to school after a long vacation is the absolute worst. No contest.
> 
> At least I have writing this story to make me happy! You guys have no idea how fun this is for me; I haven't had this much fun writing since I was 14. 
> 
> Also a quick heads up: I should be able to post chapter 8 tomorrow and chapter 9 on Thursday, but after that my update schedule will probably be much spottier. I have a band thing going on Friday and Saturday, which delegates homework to Sunday. And, well, after that is school. I'll write when I can (which will be as often as possible), but updates will definitely not be daily. 
> 
> But enough about that! Here's today's chapter.

The next day, Friday, you don’t have a shift until six. Which is great for you, because you spend most of the day hanging out with the brothers and practicing your trombone. The biggest problem with the time shift is that now your shift doesn’t end until 10 PM. Which means you’re probably going to have to drive to work. This isn’t terrible, but you’re starting to look forward to walking there, especially since Sans started accompanying you.

When you express your annoyance at having to drive (not that you’d ever say why), Sans offers to walk you home after.

“Oh, that’s okay Sans, I can drive,” you protest, even though inside you’re ecstatic. Even if you didn’t have a crush on him, you’d still be excited to hang out with Sans. He’s such an easygoing guy, and his puns occasionally make you laugh. It wouldn’t break your heart if the two of you never moved past friendship, even if you really want to.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Sans’ response. “Nah, really. I insist.” You don’t put up a fight, and the two of you gear up to head out, Papyrus placing a container of spaghetti in your hand for dinner.

“Do you even have a job?” you ask Sans once you’re on the way. He looks at you, tilting his head a little, and you hurriedly clarify. “I mean, it feels like you’re always around to walk me to my shifts, and that’s not a bad thing, I really like walking with you, but it makes me wonder if you have a job that you go to because I swear I’ve never seen you leave the house so I just wondered if you…” You trail off when his hand cups your shoulder.

“I work from home,” he says.  You blush and look down. You’re always rambling around him, goddamn it.

“Haha, I guess that makes sense,” you say, trying to brush off your earlier awkwardness. You turn to look at him and you see he’s staring at you. Not in an impolite way, but in an observation way. You crack a small smile and turn back to face forward.

As usual, you’re a little disappointed when you reach the café, as that means your walk with Sans is over.

“I’ll meet you out here at ten, okay?” he asks. You nod.

“Ten.”

* * *

 

You really, really, really, _really_ hate closing by yourself. The problem is that you’re very efficient when it comes to closing. Nicole, the manager, watched you close on Wednesday and was so impressed she’s sure you can handle it all by yourself. She tells you to lock the door from the inside when you leave; she’s got the key to open it in the morning. The café’s open until 9:30 on Fridays, so you spend the last half hour of your shift wiping down the counter and the tables, making sure the fridge and freezer backup power systems are working, and cleaning the coffee grinders. Best part of the job.

When you finish, it’s five to ten, and you have no reason to stick around. Putting your apron and name tag in their cubby in the back room, you step outside, hearing the door click behind you.

No sign of Sans yet. You’re thinking you should have stayed inside until he got there when you hear something from the alley next to the café. It sounds like…crying.

 A chill running down your spine, not entirely because of the cool evening, you step into the alley. You don’t have to walk very far before you see a small monster at your feet. You kneel down, trying to figure out what it is. It has wings, and its body is shaped kind of like a cartoon ghost. Looking closely, you see that one of its wings is bent. Broken.

“You poor thing,” you say, sitting down next to the creature. “Who did this to you?”

You get no answer but a loud whimper. You’re about to try again when you hear footsteps behind you. You scramble up, expecting to see Sans. Maybe he can help? But when you turn around, Sans isn’t there. Instead, there’s two threatening-looking men there, blocking your only way out of the alley.

“Um, c-can I help you gentlemen?” The crippling fear that overtakes your body forces you to stutter. “I-I don’t want any trouble, I’ll just get out of your-“

The one on the right turns to his companion. “She doesn’t want any trouble.” The other laughs. It sends a shiver up your spine.

The one on the left looks you right in the eyes. “That’s funny, we think you’re _asking_ for trouble, hanging out with monsters. Your own species not good enough for ya?”

You shudder. These guys, or someone like them, must have been watching you. They must have seen you walking with Sans. They might know where you live.

“I think,” the one on the right says, interrupting your thoughts. “We oughta teach this girl a lesson in _respect_ for humans. Whaddya say?”

The one on the left simply leers at you and takes a step forward. You take a step back, only to find yourself backed up against the alley wall. Your mind shutting down from the fear, you can only think of one thing to do.

You scream.

* * *

 

Sans checks his watch. 9:59. He curses to himself. He’ll _almost_ be on time, but he’ll still be late. He picks up the pace, the flowers and box of raisins bouncing around in his pocket.

Tonight’s the night, he thinks to himself. Tonight’s the night he’s going to ask you out on a date, with a fabulous pun, no less. He’s almost certain you’ve been giving off the right signals, and he’s finally ready to act on them.

He walks up to the storefront a little nervous, his hands fiddling with each other. Only, you’re nowhere to be found. He checks his watch. 10:02. Maybe you’re still closing up? He looks inside the café but all the lights are off. He frowns. Something’s wrong.

He’s about to text you when he hears voices coming from the alley. He barely has time to process this before he hears a scream. _Your_ scream. Left eye flaring with blue, he rushes towards the noise and sees two guys backing you into the corner of the alley between the café and New Grillby’s. A burning rage overtakes him, and he raises his hard, sending one of them into the other. His fury unquenched, he catapults them into opposite walls of the alley.

As they lie there, groaning, hardly moving, he steps towards them, the air around him crackling with magic. “If you _ever_ ,” he kicks one in the head. “Come near her again,” he stomps on the other’s ankle.

“Y o u ‘ r e  g o n n a  h a v e  a  b a d  t i m e.”

He steps back, his magic dying down. He sees you out of the corner of his eye, scooping up the small monster and running out of the alley. He sees you set down the monster gently, and it gets up and hop-runs off, without so much as a single thank you.  You turn to him, and he sees tears in your eyes before you collide with him in a hug, knocking both of you to the ground.

A pun flashes across his mind but he bites it down. Not a good time. Instead, he settles for wrapping his arms around you, giving you a soothing rub on the back.

“Hey, we need to get home.” He gently takes your hand, helping you stand up. “They might get up soon.”

You nod, and he sees the tearstains on your cheeks. He fights the rage that rises in his bones at the sight, and instead holds you close. “Don’t let go,” he whispers.

He teleports you into the living room, right in front of the couch. You shakily take a seat, and he does the same. You’re holding his hand, and he squeezes it tightly, to give you some semblance of comfort.

“? You okay?” he asks, then mentally scolds himself. What a stupid question. Why would you be okay? You almost…he doesn’t finish the thought.

You lean into his shoulder. “I-I think so.” Sans rubs your back again. He can see you visibly relaxing. “If you weren’t there Sans, I don’t know what would have happened. If you got there even a little later…” You trail off, and the two of you sit in silence. After a few minutes, Sans reaches into his sweatshirt pocket. He pulls out the flowers, now wilted. He feels your head leave his shoulder as you look at them.

“What are those, Sans?”

He grimaces at you. “The reason I wasn’t there earlier.” Looking at your face, he can see the question forming in your mind. Your eyebrows furrow, and under any other circumstance he would have marveled at how cute you are.

“Sans, what are you talking about?” He takes in a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“This is gonna sound a little weird, given the circumstances, but give it a chance, okay?” You nod, and he continues, pulling out the box of raisins and handing them to you. He grins at the confused look on your face.

“Do you like raisins? Well, how about a date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That line was used on me once. 
> 
> See you guys later!


	8. Something New, Something Wonderful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write.

“How about a date?”

The question reverberates around your head and it feels like time’s frozen. This is _real,_ this is _happening._ The guy you’ve been developing a crush on just _asked you out._

_Sans just asked you out._

Holy _shit._

Still shell-shocked, you look up to meet him with your eyes. “I-yes,” you breathe out, your tight throat barely letting the words pass. “Yes!” you say with more enthusiasm. “I-I would love that. I would love to.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your cheeks going rosy, and you look down at the floor. You feel your hand being squeezed, and you look up to see Sans, his eyes, as minimal as they are, portraying more emotion than you’ve ever _seen_ from him. Caught up in the moment, you lean into him again, pressing your head into his chest. The hand he isn’t holding shifts to behind his back to act as a support. In turn, you feel Sans shifting to make the two of your more comfortable.

“…Would you mind if we went out tomorrow?” he asks, whispering in your ear. “I know you have the day off…”

You nod into his chest, and then pull back. “Yes. Please.” You’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

He chuckles. “Okay, then. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

 

It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming.

And you’ve got a date with a skeleton.

As you go through your morning routine, taking a shower, putting on makeup, you can’t help but smile. Throwing open your closet door, you hunt for the perfect outfit. Nothing too formal, but nicer than your usual jeans and a t-shirt. Finally, you find it. A black and red checkered dress that barely brushes your knees. It’s got straps, so you snag a thin jacket to wear on top of it and a pair of black shorts to wear underneath. You think you can remember to keep your legs crossed, but it never hurts to be too careful.

After brushing the last few tangles out of your hair, you think you’re ready. You head downstairs, unsurprised to find only Papyrus awake so far. He’s in the kitchen, and you’re pleased to smell sausages cooking. He’s branching out, and you couldn’t be more proud.

Also, maple syrup really doesn’t belong on spaghetti noodles.  

“Hey Papyrus!” you call to him as you take a seat at the table. “That smells great!”

He turns to you, beaming. Then a look of confusion falls over his face. “! You look so nice!”

“Aw, thanks Pap,” you say, blushing a little. “I tried hard.”

“I can tell,” comes a quiet voice at your ear.

You turn around, and sure enough, there’s Sans. You give him a small smile and brush a few stray hairs behind your ear. Looking at him, he’s not wearing the same clothes you’ve always seen him in before. He’s traded the shorts for sweatpants, and the sweatshirt for a black jacket that makes him look much slimmer than you’ve seen him. While it’s not the fanciest ensemble, you can tell he’s dressing up just like you are. For some reason, this brings an idiotic grin to your face.

He sits next to you at the table and you feel his hand lightly brushing yours, as if asking permission to hold it. You respond by gripping it tightly, then relaxing your grip, letting your fingers slide between his.

“Sans!” Papyrus exclaims as he presents the two of you with plates of sausage. “You look positively cheerful today!” At his words, you look over at Sans’ face, studying his expression. Sure enough, the lights in his eyes seem brighter, his smile less of a grin, more genuine.

“I, uh, got a good night’s sleep last night, Pap.”

Papyrus sets down his own plate across from the two of you, and takes a seat, digging in immediately. Which reminds you―you haven’t taken a bite yet.

It’s a little hard with the use of only one hand, but you’d rather keep hold of Sans’. Finally, you manage to spear a bite, and you eat it. Not too shabby. You smile at Papyrus in lieu of a spoken compliment, and he gives you a thumbs-up.

Some time passes before any of you speak again. Papyrus breaks the silence. “So , would you like to come train with Undyne and I today? I promise you will have a GREAT time.”

You glance over at Sans for a second, then back to Papyrus. “Actually, um, we kinda, um…” You trail off, looking down at your hand clasped with Sans’. Papyrus follows your gaze, and immediately figures out what’s going on.

“Are you two going on a DATE?” he asks. You nod, a grin creeping onto your face. Papyrus gasps, and turns to Sans. “Do you need to borrow my dating handbook? It contains lots of great tips!”

“I think we’ll be fine, bro.”

Papyrus faces you again. “You know, I went on a date once! With Frisk!”

You haven’t heard this story before. “ _Really?”_

“Yes!” He smiles at the memory. “They were madly in love with me, but alas, I only wanted to be friends. But everything worked out great, and now we are the best of friends!”

You’re not sure if Frisk was ever interested in Papyrus romantically, but decide not to voice your opinion.

“Have fun on your date, but remember to be back for dinner!” Papyrus says, cleaning up his plate from breakfast. “We’re having Frisk and Toriel over!”

You and Sans agree, and Papyrus whisks out of the house, leaving the two of you alone. Sans gets up from the table and you follow suit, your hands still intertwined.

“So what are we doing for our date, bone boy?” you ask. Sans leads you to the garage (which you _still_ haven’t been inside) and opens it, revealing Papyrus’ car and…a motorcycle.

You stare at it, stunned into silence. “I didn’t know you had one of those!”

Sans just shrugs, and hands you a helmet. You put it on, and climb onto the bike behind him.

“Hold onto me,” he says. You wrap your arms around him, not taking any chances. He kicks up the kickstand, and you’re off.

Having never been on a motorcycle before, the ride is terrifying. The wind is whipping past you at an alarming rate, and you pull yourself closer into Sans, your face pressed into his jacket.

Luckily, the ride’s not that long, and you untangle yourself from Sans to find that you’ve stopped at a beach next to the town’s lake.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand. “This place is _great_ for sitting around and doing nothing.”

You laugh and follow him, the two of you making your way down the slope (thank god you’re wearing decent shoes) until you hit the rocks. You walk up to the water and reach down to run a hand through the water. You pull back almost immediately. Cold.

The two of you take a seat right by the water’s edge, the rocks around you small enough not to be a bother. You take off your boots and socks and let your toes drag in the water. You’ll be damned if you let something as inconsequential as the temperature keep you from doing something you enjoy. Looking at the rocks around you, you see that a lot of them are smooth, flat, and round. Perfect skipping rocks.

So you pick one up, roll up onto your knees for better leverage, and pitch it, watching it bounce twice before sinking down.

“What are you doing?” Sans asks from behind you. You turn and grin at him.

“I’m skipping rocks.” You pick up another one. “Want me to teach you?” He shrugs, but scoots closer to you, shifting so that he’s close to your height.

You look around for a good rock and find a decent candidate, pressing it into his palm.

“Watch me,” you say. You throw low, flicking your wrist as you launch the rock. It skips one, two, three times. You look back at Sans, motioning for him to try. He does, and you’re elated to see it bounce once before sinking.

“First try!” you exclaim, your stomach leaping at the surprised smile he gives you. “Here, try again.” You toss him another rock, and he does.

This continues for a few minutes until you decide to make a game out of it. You challenge Sans to a competition, and he accepts. To your surprise, he’s gotten really good at skipping rocks, almost always making two or three bounces.

At least, you’re surprised until you notice a familiar blue sheen surrounding the rocks he’s been skipping. A surreptitious glance to the side confirms your suspicion. The blue flame is active in his left eye. He’s using his magic. He glances over at you, and he knows he’s caught.

“Cheater!” you cry, pouncing on him. You catch him by surprise, knocking him down on the ground. Your arms shoot out to hold you up, the only thing keeping you from crashing down onto him.

You stay there, frozen, staring at Sans, and him at you. You’re about to say something when your hand slips on a wet rock and you go crashing into his chest, an “oof” escaping from you.

“Shit, sorry,” you say, pushing yourself off of him. He stays on the ground, giving you a sly grin.

“Didn’t know you wanted to go to the _bone zone_ so soon,” he says, his voice barely above a drawl. You must look shocked, because he immediately clarifies. “Relax, it was just a joke.”

You laugh a little, drawing your knees into your chest and looking out across the lake. It’s so big, you can’t see the other side. You feel a small pressure on your knee and look over at Sans, who’s placed his hand over it. You hum happily and shift over so that you’re pressed up against him. He seems to radiate heat; you’ve never noticed that before.

Suddenly, you hear a rumbling noise, and you’re embarrassed to discover your stomach’s the culprit. Sans must have heard it too.

“You hungry?” he asks. You nod. You hadn’t noticed before, but all of a sudden it’s hitting you like a freight train.

“New Grillby’s okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Honestly, I could even go for some of Pap’s breakfast spaghetti right now.”

He chuckles at that. He stands up, and you follow suit.

“Nah, you can stay here,” he says. “It’ll be faster if I just teleport there and back.”

Before you can say anything, he’s gone. You sit back down in slight disappointment. Last night, when you’d teleported with him, you could feel the magic coursing through your veins. It felt…electric. You wish you could feel that again, under better circumstances.

Your wandering thoughts are interrupted when Sans appears in front of you, clutching some takeout containers.

“Did you remember to bring extra ketchup?” you ask.

He laughs, pulling his hand out of his pocket to reveal several ketchup packets. Perfect.

The two of you sit down to eat your lunch, watching the lake’s waves lap up against the shore.

* * *

 

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the day out here with you, doing absolutely nothing,” Sans says, his head resting on your stomach, “we need to get back soon. Pap told me he’s making lasagna and he wanted help.”

You sigh, sitting up and pushing Sans up from your lap. “Are you sure he can’t handle it on his own?”

He just stares at you.

“Fine,” you say, standing up. You grab Sans’ hand and pull, forcing him to stand up as well. “Let’s go.”

You get back on the bike, and a few terrifying minutes later, you’re back in the garage. Sans is about to head back toward the house when you call out to him, a sudden desire washing over you.

“What’s up?” he asks. You bite your lip.

“I-I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if, um, i-if we kissed…” you say, your voice losing control and volume as you go. Sans looks at you, and as you start to blush red, he smiles.

“You want to kiss me?” You nod quickly. God, why does he look so _smug_?

He moves closer to you. “You’re so cute,” he says as he presses his teeth against your lips.

It’s a different feeling, but a _great_ one. You close your eyes and press closer to him, hands coming up to wrap around his back. You’re kissing him, kissing Sans, and goddamn it feels good.

Suddenly a loud crash sounds from somewhere in the garage, and you and Sans leap apart, both breathing heavier. You see your motorcycle helmet rolling around on the ground and smile sheepishly at Sans, who starts laughing.

The two of you hold hands as you walk toward the house, and you’re caught by Papyrus, who swings the door open when you’re still ten feet from it.

“I see you two had a successful date!” he says, looking down at your clasped hands. “I’m so happy for you!” But you don’t get much of a chance to celebrate with him, as he immediately enlists you to help in the kitchen.

You get busy helping Papyrus layer the lasagna, while Sans stands there in the kitchen, watching.

“You know what you could do to make yourself more useful, Sans?” you ask. “You could bake a cake like the one you made for me! Toriel and Frisk would _love_ it.”

He looks like you’ve betrayed him, giving him a job to do. But then he sighs. “Fine,” he says, resigning himself to the task. “But only because you asked.”

The three of you continue working feverishly until the lasagna is cooling and the cake is in the fridge, fully frosted. You only have five minutes of relaxation time before the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of your guests.

Papyrus lets them in and you’re all seated in the dining room―you and Sans share the bench against the wall and the others sit in chairs around the rest of the table. Just like at breakfast, you figure out how to eat one-handed, because Sans has co-opted your other one.

You see out of the corner of your eye Frisk tapping Sans to get his attention, and then signing something while looking between the two of you. Sans smiles at them and nods, ruffling their hair.

“What did they say?” you whisper in his ear as Papyrus and Toriel hold a conversation about the merits of lasagna versus spaghetti.

Sans smiles at you, using his thumb to draw little circles over your knee. “They said that you’re very pretty and nice, and that I’m lucky to have you.”

You blush, shooting a glance at Frisk, who simply winks at you. Little turd.

The rest of dinner goes well, and Sans receives excessive praise for his cake. Before you know it, Toriel and Frisk head home, and Papyrus goes to bed with a story from Sans. When he comes back down, you’re just finishing up loading the dishwasher. You don’t hear him approach, and you jump a little when you feel his arm around your waist.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump your bones,” he says. You giggle a little.

You finish up the dishes and turn to him. “I had a really good time today, Sans.”

He smiles at you. “Really?”

You nod. “Best first date I’ve ever had.”

“First,” he muses. “That mean there’ll be more?”

“Only if you’re good, bone boy.” You turn around to walk away, but a hand on your arm stops you.

 Turning back to face him, you see Sans has a devious smile on his face. He pulls you in close to him. “What if I’d rather be bad?”

Caught off guard, your immediate reaction is to gulp. But what he says isn’t scaring you. It’s just like what you felt when you teleported with him. An electric excitement.

But now isn’t the time or place. It’s late, and you’re not thinking clearly after the long (wonderful) day you’ve had. So instead of doing something you might regret later, you simply give Sans a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Maybe later. See you in the morning.” As you walk away, you hope you gave him a taste of his own medicine. Two can play at this game of chicken.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND story arc number 1 is now complete!
> 
> I am REALLY looking forward to the next part of the fic. It features more of the other characters, as well as some that haven't been introduced in the story yet. 
> 
> I hit 200 kudos on this fic today, and that is just crazy! To all of you who've stuck around and read this thing, commented, or left a kudos, thank you so much. Y'all keep me writing!


	9. A Modest Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, a few things before we start the chapter.
> 
> Chapter 10 is done. It's pretty short, but it's done. And I've STARTED chapter 11. So tomorrow y'all get a chapter, and Saturday PROBABLY. After that, I'm not really sure. I have most of the second arc planned out, through the first part of chapter 15. 
> 
> Related: the second arc. It'll be longer than the first arc, at least in terms of in-fic time. Like, instead of over the course of like 2 weeks, over the course of 3 months. Lots of things are gonna be happening, and I start setting that up in this chapter.
> 
> So, without further ado, here it is!

“Relax. It’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if it isn’t? What if I didn’t make it in?”

“Even if you didn’t, which is very unlikely, it’s still gonna be okay.”

It’s been three weeks since your date with Sans, and now you’re done with your first week of classes, too. You’d be glad to have the Saturday to relax and goof off, but today’s the day the results of the jazz band tryouts. So instead you’re staring at the computer with Sans sitting next to you, rubbing your back in solidarity.

“Oh man, the results are going up any minute now!” You start bouncing your leg rapidly up and down in an effort to calm your anxiety. It doesn’t work.

Sans responds by taking your hand in his and pressing it to his teeth. You sigh and lean into his shoulder. “Sorry I’m being all nervous and shit.”

He doesn’t respond, just lets you lean against him for support. You close your eyes for a minute until you’re jostled by his arm moving.

“Hey look, the results are up.”

You immediately cover your eyes with your hands and hunch over. “I can’t look! Tell me what it says!”

He chuckles and you can hear the mouse scrolling before it stops. The resounding silence amplifies your anxiety and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. You feel like you’re about to explode.

“Well would you look at that. Trombone 2,  .”

“No way!” you cry as you sit straight up, staring at the screen. Sans points it out to you and you read it for yourself. There’s your name, next to the Trombone 2 slot. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and start laughing out of relief. Finally, all your practicing has paid off.

Turning to Sans, you give him a hug and plant a kiss on his forehead. The two of you are so busy celebrating that you don’t hear Papyrus coming in from the backyard.

“Sans! !” he exclaims. “Why are you so excited?”

You turn around, a huge smile on your face. “I got in, Pap! I’m in the jazz band!”

There’s barely time for you to register Papyrus’ reaction before you’re scooped up in a hug, the taller skeleton’s arms wrapped tight around you.

“I am so PROUD!” he declares. “We have to celebrate!”

You ask him what he has in mind, and he suggests throwing a party. With your approval, he sends out a mass text to all your friends, telling them the good news and inviting them to the party which will be starting, oh, immediately.

At these words, you blanch and start rushing around the downstairs, trying to tidy up your schoolwork (already strewn around the house, and it’s only been a week) before the others can arrive. You manage to shove most of it behind a chair before they arrive, sitting down on a chair and trying to pretend like you weren’t just panic-cleaning.

“Congrats, nerd!” Undyne says when she sees you. You laugh, thanking her. You were surprised to find out that Undyne works on campus as a PE teacher. You’re not taking her class (you’re pretty sure you’d die if you did), but you’ve already seen her around a few times.

Alphys gives you a smile from next to Undyne, and you return the gesture. Suddenly, Frisk bounds out of nowhere and skids to a halt in front of you, giving you two big thumbs up in lieu of signing anything.

“Thanks, sweetie!” you say. A few weeks ago, all this attention would have made you uncomfortable, but now, you’ve become friends with all the monsters (and Frisk). You feel much more comfortable with all of them, and it feels great.

After everyone is settled, the party begins. And by party, you mean you pull out a double deck of Uno and deal out the cards. What can you say; you can throw a pretty hyped celebration.

After a few rounds, you can feel the tension in the room building.

“Uno!” you cry, slamming down a red 2. Everyone in the circle glares at you, and you snicker to yourself. Your last card’s a wild card. There’s no way you can lose.

Everyone plays a card going around the circle, shooting nervous glances at you as your turn grows closer. You simply send sweet smiles back. Sans is on your right, and the last one to go before you do. He looks at you, and you swear you can detect a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Oh no.

“Sorry babe,” he says, laying down his card. “Draw four!”

Everyone laughs as you grumble under your breath, picking up four cards and shooting Sans a dirty glare, to which he simply shrugs his shoulders and winks. Asshole.

You feel vindicated when Frisk wins the round, and get up to grab some snacks from the kitchen. You’re reaching up to grab a large bowl to put potato chips in when you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. You turn around, setting the bowl on the counter, and come face to face with Undyne. She looks…nervous about something.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“You’re a girl, right?” she blurts out. You nod, a little confused. “So you know what girls like.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “You know Undyne, you’re a girl too. Shouldn’t you _also_ know what girls like?”

Undyne looks down at the ground. “It’s for Alphys, okay? She doesn’t really like training, or cooking, so I’m kinda at a loss…” She trails off and crosses her arms, tapping her foot.

“You and Alphys have been dating for, well, a really long time,” you say, still not sure what this is about. “If you want to get her a present, I’m sure you know what she likes.”

“I-It’s not like that!” she cries. “Whatever I do, it has to be _super special._ I’m gonna ask her to, uh.”

Suddenly it clicks in your head and you gasp out loud.

“Are you going to _propose_ to Alphys?” you practically shriek. Undyne hurriedly shushes you, and you beam, knowing you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Keep it down!” she says. “It’s supposed to be a secret!”

You nod, and open a bag of chips, pouring them into the bowl. “Like I said before, you know Alphys better than anyone. When you’re ready to propose, you’ll do it right. Alphys will love whatever you do, just because it’s from _you._ ”

“I guess that makes sense,” Undyne says. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem,” you say. “I’m a sucker for happy couples getting married. It’s pretty much my favorite thing.”

Undyne heads back into the living room and you’re left to prepare the rest of the snacks. A few minutes later, you come out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of chips and a bowl of M&Ms you found in the back of the pantry. Not much in the way of party food, but it’s the best you can do with five minutes’ notice. You see that the Uno decks are put away and that everyone’s moved to sit on and around the couch. You place the snacks on the coffee table and, seeing no other alternative, squeeze yourself in between Papyrus and Sans. It’s pretty tight, and you end up partially in Sans’ lap. Not that he’s complaining, of course. He winds his arms around your stomach and pulls you closer to him, his chin tucking over your elbow.

“We thought since you play the trombone and you made it into the jazz band,” Alphys says as she’s fiddling around with the TV, “that we should have a marathon of Sound!Euphonium to celebrate!”

You grin and bounce a little on Sans’ lap. Sound!Euphonium’s one of your favorite animes.

Alphys rolls the first video and you all settle in to watch. Even though you’ve seen the whole thing, it’s been a while since you last watched it, so you’re still paying rapt attention to it.

You’re a couple of episodes in when Undyne grabs the remote and pauses the show, making everyone else groan in disappointment. She looks over at you, and you know what she’s going to do a second before she does it.

“Hey, uh, Alphys, can I ask you a question?” she says, turning to her nonplussed girlfriend, who nods slowly, a look of confusion on her face.

Undyne continues. “We’ve been dating for a while, yeah? And I uh,” she starts scratching at the back of her neck. “Well, I really like you. A lot. And I guess I wanna spend the rest of forever with you or some romantic crap like that. So,” here she kneels down in front of Alphys, who looks like she’s about to faint, either from happiness or embarrassment. You’re not sure which. “Alphys, babe, best nerd ever, will you marry me?”

You hear Toriel let out a quiet gasp, and you know you’re beaming ear to ear. As for Alphys, she’s turning red. You can literally see individual scales turning colors. The tension in the room is building by the second, and you can physically feel everyone willing Alphys to answer.

“Y-yes!” she yelps out.

The room explodes. Everyone is cheering, and the cheers only get louder when Undyne scoops Alphys up in a hug and smooches her full on the lips (Toriel leans down to cover Frisk’s eyes, and you can’t help but laugh).

You get up off of Sans’ lap and move closer to congratulate the happy couple. “You know Undyne, when I told you that you should propose, I didn’t mean tonight.” She sticks her tongue out at you and then laughs. You can see that she’s overwhelmingly happy right now. “But don’t get me wrong, I am so, so happy for you guys!” Just thinking about them getting married gives you a warm feeling inside.

“_-,” Alphys says, “Would you mind, uh, helping us out with the w-wedding?” She looks awestruck as the word falls from her lips.

“Yeah!” Undyne chimes in. “You could like, help us make it more like a human wedding!”

You’re unbelievably flattered. “Are you guys sure?”

“Yes!” they say together.

“I mean, human stuff is pretty cool!” Undyne says. “Getting married like humans would be the COOLEST!”

Her enthusiasm wins you over for good. You accept, and the three of you spend the rest of the party in a group huddle, planning out the basics of the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally weddings are the best and I love them
> 
> I can tell you that LOTS of new things are in the works for the next bunch of chapters. Hey, maybe we'll finally get to the point where I EARN that Explicit rating!
> 
> See ya next time!


	10. Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> golly gee gosh am I tired
> 
> Today was a long day filled with music and not much else. It was great.
> 
> Anyway, here's chapter 10. Short chapter is short.

Your first weekend shift at the café isn’t as bad as Nicole made it out to be.

Sure, there’s hardly a moment to rest, but the customers are nice enough. You aren’t talking to them anyway, you’re just making coffees and grabbing pastries. All you have to do is read the instructions Bratty or Catty wrote on the cup, and then follow them. Easy as pie.

Of course, this becomes monotonous after a while, and now parts of your mind can drift as you get the rhythm down to a science. However, before you can fade away into daydream land, Bratty’s voice cuts through your mental fog.

“Oh my god Catty, did you like, _see_ that creepy guy that came in the store the other day? He was like, _super_ rude.”

Catty adds her charming voice as well. “I. Know. And he didn’t even order anything! He just, like, sat at a table and stared at us for a while. Super creepy.”

You feel something in your stomach drop. Was he working with the two guys who had cornered you in the alley? Was he _one_ of them? You grip the coffee cup you’re holding a little harder, the memory of the fear you felt that night washing over you. You won’t tell anyone this, but you’ve had a couple nightmares since that night. And even when you’re awake, there are times when you can’t keep yourself from wondering what would have happened to you if Sans hadn’t shown up when he did. You shudder to yourself and try to focus back on making coffee, willing your thoughts to go away.

When your shift’s over, Sans is already waiting outside for you with his motorcycle.

“Hey,” he says, handing you your helmet. “How was work?”

“Busy,” you say as you pull the helmet down over your head. “Tell you more about it when we get home.”

Even though you’re getting used to riding on the back of Sans’ motorcycle, it still isn’t your preferred mode of transportation. But Sans won’t use his teleportation magic when there’s other people around, and sometimes you’re just too tired to walk. At least it gives you an excuse to hug your boyfriend.

After you get home and the bike’s put away in the garage, you and Sans sit down on the couch so you can tell him a little more about your day before you go up to work on stuff for your classes.

“So,” you begin, leaning back into the pillows. “I heard from the other baristas that there was a creepy guy who came in a few days ago. Didn’t order anything, apparently he just sat in the back and…watched them? I don’t know.” You glance over at Sans and see that he’s sitting up straight, an apprehensive look on his face. “When I heard that, I got a little nervous. I mean, what if he works with those guys from the alley? What if he _was_ one of them?” Your voice trembles a little and Sans reaches out to touch your shoulder. You’re grateful for the contact.

“I promise no one will ever try to hurt you again.” His voice is deep and comforting. You look at him, and there’s such a tenderness in his eyes. What did you ever do to deserve someone like Sans?

He continues. “That guy and anybody like him will _never_ be able to get near you.” His left eye flickers blue for a moment and you’re reminded of the night he saved you again. The way he was able to take down two men twice his size. You know the power Sans can wield should scare you, at least intimidate you, but it doesn’t. Like Sans himself, it just makes you feel safe.

“I told Nicole I wasn’t comfortable working so late, and she was really nice about it,” you say. It’s been hard for you to go outside at night by yourself lately. Even when you’re with Sans or Papyrus, you still feel a little jumpy, like someone could come out of the shadows and attack you at any minute. “She moved my shifts to end earlier, and I don’t have to close anymore.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to reassure, Sans, or yourself.

Either way, Sans hums in contentment and pulls you in for a hug.

After a few moments, you pull away. “I need to work on something for class,” you say apologetically. He nods, and you go upstairs to your room, where the dreaded homework is awaiting you.

* * *

 

“I cannot _believe_ Alexander Hamilton gave a speech that lasted for _six hours,_ ” you mutter as you furiously type out an essay due Monday morning. You have to outline the major events of the Constitutional Convention and give your opinion on each. At least the second part is easy.

You work for a few more minutes until you hear the front door open and shut.

“The GREAT PAPYRUS is home!” comes a cry from the front door. You breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally, something to distract you.

You head down the stairs, immediately greeted by Papyrus, who somehow looks even peppier than usual.

“!” he exclaims. “You’ll never guess who I saw at Undyne and Alphys’ house!”

You honestly have no idea. “Who?”

“METTATON!” he exclaims.

“Oh!” you say, recognition flashing through your brain at the name. “The, uh, robot from TV, right?”

“Yes!” he says. “Alphys told him about the wedding and he just burst in their house while Undyne and I were training! It was truly a sight to behold!”

Oh yeah, Alphys _did_ create Mettaton, didn’t she? “Does he want to help out? I could go over there and explain the plan so far…”

“Ah yes, that reminds me!” Papyrus beams at you. “Undyne told me to tell you that they are going shopping next weekend for dresses and things. Mettaton is going, so Undyne wants you to come too!”

“I’d love to!” you say, pulling out your phone to tell Undyne the same thing. “I usually don’t like shopping, but dress shopping is actually pretty fun,” you say as you type. “I love looking at the dresses and trying to imagine what I’d look like in all of them.”

Sans appears next to you. “I think you’d be _shirt_ to look good.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “ _Shirt?_ That’s a little bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’m just _tying_ to be funny.”

“I am LEAVING,” Papyrus exclaims, storming out of the living room. “I will come back when Sans decides to be civil.”

You smile at his retreating figure. “He totally likes it. He just doesn’t want to say anything.”

“Exactly.” Sans sits down on the couch and sinks into it, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “So you’re going shopping next weekend?”

“Yeah,” you say, sliding down next to him. “I’ll get to meet Mettaton, I guess. Have you ever met him?”

Sans nods. “He’s got a, uh, forceful personality.”

You laugh. “I could tell that from TV. Hopefully he won’t be too bothersome.”

Sans snakes an arm around your shoulder. “Ah, you’ll be fine, babe. And if he tries anything…” He trails off and you glance over at him, only to see the blue shining in his left eye. You shove him in the shoulder and he relaxes, a sheepish grin spread over his face.

“ _If_ he tries anything,” you say, “I’ll be the first one to give him a good kick in the metal balls.”

Sans laughs and it’s such a nice sound in your ear. It makes you smile, and you think to yourself.

_I could get used to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander Hamilton is my problematic fave.
> 
> Chapter 11 will EITHER be up tomorrow or Sunday. If it goes up tomorrow, it is almost impossible that I'll update Sunday as well. I gotta do homework and gross stuff like that. I mean, I'd LOVE to just sit around and write for this story all day, but I can't. 
> 
> Also I just realized while reading through this again that I accidentally made Reader say a pun? I wanna see if you guys can figure out what it was.
> 
> See you at some point this weekend!


	11. Dress Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! I got a chapter out this weekend!
> 
> I'm really sorry I couldn't post yesterday. I wanted to, but after I got home from the honor band I was in, I was too tired to do *anything*. So instead I woke up earlier today and polished the chapter for ya.
> 
> Here it is in all its glory.

Sans was right. Mettaton is definitely...forceful.

When you head over to Undyne and Alphys’ house, he’s sitting on the couch, his legs crossed as he chats amiably with a nonplussed Alphys. When you and Undyne come into the living room, he immediately stands up.

“Well hello darling!” he says, coming over to you and clasping your hand with both of his. They’re metal, so you expect them to feel cold, but they aren’t. “You must be the human that Alphys has told me about! The one dating Sans!”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you say, not sure if you should pull your hand away from his grasp or not. Luckily, he drops it, and you let it flop to your side. “So you want to help with the wedding?”

He grins. “Oh yes! When darling Alphys told me she was engaged, I simply _had_ to help! After all, she did create my body.”

You nod, and look over Mettaton for real. He really doesn’t seem like a robot at all. He’s so _expressive,_ his movements so fluid. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s just wearing silver body paint. The technology Alphys developed in the underground must have been really sophisticated if Alphys could recreate life in a robot.

As the four of you travel to the local mall, you continue to wonder about Mettaton.

The first place you go is a Target attached to the mall. When you were planning this trip, you looked up monster-friendly establishments on the internet. There were unofficial lists compiled on monstersabove.com, a monster-created website. You want to make sure today’s shopping goes off without a hitch. Undyne and Alphys deserve to have a good wedding, and that includes everything leading up to it.

You approach a sales associate at the customer help desk, and indicate to her that Alphys and Undyne are getting married and want to create a wedding registry. She’s very nice and you let out a relieved sigh. On top of the two of them being monsters, they’re also a lesbian couple, and humans can be assholes. At least this one isn’t.

The two of them head off with the employee and you’re left alone with Mettaton.

“After they’re done, we’re looking at dresses, right?” he asks. You nod.

“Yeah, I found this place that has a monster tailor for monsters who don’t have human proportions. Undyne’ll be fine, But Alphys…” You trail off as Mettaton nods.

“And what about _you,_ darling?” he asks. “You need a dress too.”

“Oh, I’ll probably just wear something I already have,” you say. You don’t have a lot of money to spare anyway, and you’d rather spend it on Undyne and Alphys’ present than on a dress you’ll probably only wear once.

Mettaton, however, seems shocked at your words. “! You simply _must_ have a new dress for the wedding! After Undyne and Alphys get situated, you and I are shopping for _you.”_

You blanch at his words. You did _not_ expect to be shopping for yourself today. Part of the reason you agreed to go shopping was because you got to help Undyne and Alphys with their wedding. Not to go shopping for _yourself._

But, you think, maybe it could be fun. You _do_ like dressing up. You’ll have to get something pretty cheap, but it could be fun.

“...Sure,” you say after a moment. “Yeah, okay.” Mettaton beams at you, his metallic teeth glinting from the lights overhead. “But _after_ we shop for Undyne and Alphys.”

* * *

 

The bridal store isn't too far of a walk from the Target. Only a few stores down, in fact. When the four of you enter, the monster tailor you’d read about comes over, very enthusiastic.

“What can I help you with?” he asks.

You step forward to give introductions. “This is Undyne and Alphys,” you say, gesturing to each of them in turn. “They’re both in need of a dress.”

“I see,” he muses, looking the both of them up and down. “Well, Undyne here would be fine with a human-style dress, but I’ll need to design something for Alphys.”

“I can help with that!” Mettaton practically shouts. “I already have _several_ ideas.”

He walks off with Alphys and the tailor, and you're left with Undyne, both of you glancing after them for a moment.

“I never liked him,” she says. “But he’s chill with Alphys, so eh.”

The two of you make your way over to some of the displays to get an idea of what Undyne wants.

“Ugh, that one’s too frilly,” she says as she walks down the line. “Too poofy. Too lacy. Too _fancy_.”

You’re looking at the other side of the display, and you suddenly stop.

“Undyne,” you say in a hushed voice. “Look at this one.”

It’s absolutely beautiful, and perfect for Undyne. Not too frilly, it’s tight on the top and down just past the hips, where it fans out like a mermaid’s tail.

“...Not bad,” she says, looking it up and down. You smile, knowing this could be the right one. Poking your head around the corner, you wave down one of the sales associates. She comes over, and you tell her Undyne would like to try on the dress.

One set of measurements and a change of clothes later, Undyne is standing in front of a mirror, awkwardly smoothing down the dress she’s in.

“It looks really great on you, Undyne,” you say from her side. “What do you think?”

“It feels weird,” she says. “I mean, I like it, but it’s weird.”

You laugh. “Yeah, wedding dresses don’t really seem to be your style. But you’ll get used to it. And hey, it’s only for one night.”

She nods, still picking at the dress. “Just for one night.”

She takes off the dress and the sales associate packages it up. Mettaton and Alphys come back, the former beaming sound receptor to sound receptor.

“I am positively _ecstatic_ about Alphys’ dress!” he exclaims. “This was the perfect place to go, .”

You smile. “I did a lot of research.”

He reminds you of your promise to shop for your own dress, so the two of you say goodbye to Undyne and Alphys, who’re paying for their dresses, with a promise to meet up at the food court for lunch later. You make your way down the mall, looking for stores that sell cheaper dresses.

Of course, Mettaton has other ideas.

“Why don't we look in _that_ store,” he suggests, gesturing to the right. You look over, and you can tell in an instant that the place is ritzy as _fuck._ There’s no way you could afford a pair of _shoes_ from that place, let alone a dress.

You bite your lip. “I don't know, it looks really expensive.”

Mettaton looks shocked. “Oh, you won't have to _pay_ for it, darling! I can take care of the price tag.”

Who even _is_ this guy? “A-are you serious?” you sputter out.

He smiles gently. “Of course I’m sure. Any friend of Alphys is a friend of mine. I’d help her and Undyne buy _their_ dresses, but between Undyne’s job at the university and Alphys’ research position, they have it covered. But _you,_ my dear,” he says, turning to you. “You do _not_ have the same kind of money. Am I wrong?”

“No,” you say. “But it feels weird, letting you buy a crazy expensive dress for me…” You think on it for a minute. “How about this. You can pay for _half_ of the dress.”

“Deal.”

The two of you head into the store, and you’re immediately star struck by the caliber of the dresses inside. They all look so amazing. Glancing down at the price tag of one of the ones on display, you can see why. You’re starting to regret only letting Mettaton pay for half of the dress.

You’re not really sure what to look for, so you pick out a few that seem nice. Mettaton snags them off the rack and shoves them and you into a changing room, demanding that you come out and model every single one for him.

You try on a red one that goes just past your knees (it’s nice but it’s a little too showy for your taste, even though Mettaton thinks it looks amazing) and a shorter, green one with a plunging neckline (the wedding is going to be in _winter,_ for crying out loud) before you try on a dark blue dress that falls to the floor. Before you leave the changing room to show Mettaton, you look at yourself in the mirror, smiling at what you see.

The dress bunches at the floor when you’re wearing tennis shoes; you’d have to wear heels if you wear it. But you like the length. It feels appropriate for winter. And it hugs your chest nicely. There aren’t any straps to hold it up, but you can tell they won’t be needed. The best part about the dress, however, is the shimmery, sparkly draping underneath the first layer of fabric. When it’s covered by the outer layer, you can’t help but picture it as the night sky, each sparkle a different star. You love it.

When you head into the hallway to show Mettaton, you’re met with a gasp.

“It’s _perfect,_ ” he says. “You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” You look down in embarrassment and pride at his words.

“I really like it,” you say. “I think this is the one.”

* * *

 

One nearly heart attack-inducing purchase later, you have a dress for the wedding. And you couldn’t be happier about what it looks like.

As the two of you make your way towards the food court to meet up with Undyne and Alphys, you feel a buzz in your purse. You pull out your phone, expecting to get a text from Undyne, wondering where the hell you are.

Instead, it’s a text from Julie.

**Hey, did you get the calculus hw? didn’t have time to write it down**

You scowl, remembering the assignment on Taylor series you still have to tackle when you get back. But you also think about Julie. Since you moved off her couch, you haven’t been seeing her that often. You have a couple classes together, Calculus and Band (she plays the trumpet in both concert band and jazz), but you really don’t get to see her that often. In fact, outside of texting, you’ve spoken a handful of words to her, if that. You’ve been so caught up in school and in your newfound non-human relationships that you’ve been ignoring one of your best friends. You decide to remedy that.

**Not at home right now, tell you when i get there. but do you wanna hang out tomorrow? we could watch movies**

Julie has a peculiar weakness for Disney movies. It’s only a few seconds before your phone lights up again.

**yes omg get me away from my calculus homework**

You smile to yourself as you hammer out a more concrete plan. Having Julie over tomorrow will be so nice. The two of you will finally be able to catch up, and you can formally introduce her to Sans and Papyrus.

It should be a good time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story about wedding registries:
> 
> My cousin got married last month, and apparently one of the things he and his wife put on their Walmart registry was a jar of pickles? I don't know, man. 
> 
> Updates this week are probably gonna be pretty spotty, sad to say :(. Last week I already had most of the chapters written, it was just a matter of posting them. Now, I'm only a couple hundred words into chapter 12 with very limited time to write more. I'm hoping to update three times before the weekend, where I'll try to bust out the rest of the second arc and start planning the third.
> 
> We'll see what happens, but it the meantime I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	12. Make New Friends, but Keep the Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gosh you guys were SO WORRIED about Julie at the end of the last chapter! It was crazy!
> 
> But I'm thinking for this week I update today, Wednesday, and Friday. Assuming I get time to write over the weekend (my friends and I are taking a trip out of town) then I'll try to post then as well. But that's a big maybe.
> 
> Anyway, here's the chapter!

“So who’s coming over again?”

“Julie,” you say as you and Sans (okay mostly you) clean up the living room. “I bummed around on her couch for a few days until I rented the room from you guys.” You pause for a second. “Related: how much rent do I owe you guys for October?”

Sans tilts his head. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

You roll your eyes. “You know, just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I get to shirk on the rental agreement. Plus I have a steady income. I can afford it.”

He shrugs and leans down to pick up a couple popcorn kernels from the floor. You’re worried you might have upset him. Sneaking up behind him, you wrap your arms around him as he stands up. You tuck your chin over his shoulder and give him a peck on the side of his skull.

“Don’t worry about me,” you say.

He turns around so he can return the hug. “I’m always worried about you.” The way his voice changes makes you painfully aware that he’s not just talking about money. He pulls back and takes a seat on the couch.

“Nothing’s happened since then,” you say to comfort him as you slide down next to him. “Everything’s been going great at the cafe.” You take his hand in yours and rub circles on it with your thumb. “It’s all back to normal.”

He sighs, but doesn’t respond. You press a kiss to his fingers and stand up, resuming the chore of cleaning up the living room.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. You spring up, and when you open the door, Julie’s standing there, smiling.

“Hey!” she says as you gesture for her to come inside. “I did the Calc homework earlier. Just as bad as I thought it would be.”

You wince. “Still haven’t started it yet.”

She laughs at your ineptitude as the two of you head into the living room. Sans is still sitting on the couch, but now the TV’s on.

“Julie, this is Sans,” you say, gesturing to your lump of a boyfriend. He looks up and lazily waves, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“ has told me so much about you, Sans, it’s great to finally meet you” Julie says. “She talks about you all the time. I mean, if I didn’t already know you two were dating, I’d think she had a major crush on you.”

Sans looks at you and winks. You feel your cheeks burning. Goddammit, Julie. It’s not like you spend every _second_ talking about Sans. Just...most of them.

“What can I say?” he says. “I am one hundred percent _bone-afied_ boyfriend material.”

Julie chuckles. “She warned me about the puns.”

You butt into the conversation to save yourself from any future embarrassment. “I’m grabbing snacks from the kitchen. Julie, go ahead and choose a movie.”

In the time it takes you to fill up a bowl of popcorn and grab some candy, Julie and Sans have already settled in and started watching Treasure Planet. One of your favorites. There’s a space between the two of them for you, so you take a seat, placing the snacks on the coffee table.

As the movie’s rolling, you and Julie start talking about band.

“Can you _believe_ the first concert’s not until the week before Christmas?” she complains. “By the time we get there, I’m gonna be so tired of the music.”

“Seriously,” you agree. “If Mr. Gallez gives us Sleigh Ride I’ll punch him in the face.”

Sans pokes you in the shoulder. “What’s Sleigh Ride?”

“Only the most repetitive and boring Christmas song _ever,_ ” Julie says. “We play it every year and I hate it. Oh, but guess what, ?”

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Gallez told me on Friday that Jazz is gonna play Santa Baby for the concert.”

You shiver. “Literally the most uncomfortable Christmas song I’ve ever heard. At least it’ll be instrumental.”

She shakes her head and you groan in disbelief. “He wants Sara to sing it.”

“Are you _serious_?” you say. “Kill me. Just kill me right now.”

Sara’s the Trombone 1 player. And boy does she act like it. It’s a miracle you make it through every jazz rehearsal without punching her in the face if you’re being honest with yourself.

Julie feels your pain. “She’d become even more of a stuck-up bitch than she already is. Which is why I told him that _you_ should sing it instead.”

Wait, _what?_

“Julie, no!” you exclaim, slapping yourself on the forehead. “Why would you _say_ that? Now I _have_ to sing it.”

She simply smiles at you. “Better you than Sara. It’s not like it’s a hard song to sing.”

“Yeah, how bad can it be?” Sans pipes up from his side of the couch. You send him a sideways glare. He shrugs back.

“I just...really don’t like the song,” you say. “The lyrics make me uncomfortable.”

“Just change the words,” Julie says, giving you a wink. Oh no.

She starts singing. “Sans, baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for m-” You clamp a hand over her mouth.

“What?” She pushes your hand away. “It _totally_ fits. And it’s way more comfortable!” Next to you, Sans is laughing. Asshole.

“I hate you so much, Julie,” you say.

She just smirks at you. “Think about it, okay? Like I said, better you than Sara.”

You hate yourself for thinking she’s right.

* * *

 

A few hours later, you’re in the middle of Lilo and Stitch when Papyrus comes home. As he comes in through the door, you remember that you forgot to tell him Julie was coming over.

“Another human!” he cries upon seeing her. He runs up to her, a blur of motion. “Hello! I believe we have met once before but in case you have forgotten, I am the GREAT PAPYRUS!”

You thank every deity you know of that Julie remains calm. She can get really uncomfortable around people who are overly loud, but with Papyrus she seems to take it in stride, shaking his proffered hand.

“It’s nice to see you again, Papyrus,” she says. You feel your shoulders relax.

“I should make celebratory spaghetti for this occasion!” he cries. He looks so happy, you feel bad when you have to let him down.

“We already ordered pizza, Pap,” you say. “It should be here any minute. But I’m sure Julie would love to try your spaghetti some other time, right Julie?”

She smiles at both you and Papyrus. “Yeah, of course.”

Eventually you all settle in to watch the movies, and when the pizza comes, everyone helps to demolish it. For all the flaws of this town, it has the best pizza you’ve ever tasted. Even Papyrus has to admit it’s pretty good.

Empty pizza box in the yard waste bin and an unfinished Calc assignment to bullshit, you say goodbye to Julie, who tells you yet again that you should sing for the concert. You tell her you’ll think about it, which she immediately assumes is a yes. After she gets in her car, you shut the door and collapse on the couch next to Sans.

Today went really well, you think to yourself. Julie doesn’t seem to care that you’re dating a monster, or that you live with some. She really is a good friend, and now you know for sure that she’s a decent human being.

Of course, not everyone is. You haven’t told Sans any of this, but there are people on campus forming anti-monster hate groups. They haven’t done anything yet, just acting like assholes and rubbing their prejudiced beliefs in everyone’s faces. You had to walk through a group of them one time on your way to class, and some guy tried to hand you a flyer. You told him to fuck off and stormed into your building. The whole rest of the day, you never stopped shaking. They reminded you too much of the men in the alley.

You don’t realize that you’re leaning into Sans until he reaches a bony hand around your waist to pull you in closer. You close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder.

At least you can feel calm when you’re with him.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julie: not an awful human being.
> 
> Hopefully I'll be able to churn out the next few chapters relatively quickly. I'm really excited for you guys to read them <3


	13. Happy Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busted out the last part of this chapter during school today. It was an adventure trying to hide my screen from everybody else.
> 
> This was longer than I thought it would be. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

You wake up on the morning of Halloween with a few texts from Undyne.

**hey so the lodge we’re getting married at is giving everybody who stays there a discount cuz it’s gonna be the middle of fuckin winter and no one will be there**

**so you should totally stay there**

**in a cabin. with sans.**

You roll your eyes, but then you think about it for a second. You’ve been to the lodge before, it’s where one of your cousins got married. They have three-bedroom cabins there that aren’t too expensive, and you could each have a bedroom to yourself. That wouldn’t be so bad.

You send a text back to Undyne.

**Will ask the boys. we’d get a 3 bedroom one tho**

She responds almost immediately

**your no fun**

Laughing, you head downstairs. It’s Halloween, and you’ve got a lot of stuff to do before the trick-or-treaters arrive.

* * *

 

Sans and Papyrus are both receptive to the idea, Papyrus exceptionally so.

“It’ll be so fun!” he cries. “Like a sleepover!” Sans simply shrugs and says he wouldn’t mind.

“It’ll be a lot easier to stay the night before and just get ready there,” you say. “If we drove up there the day before, then we could sleep in on Saturday, and I know how much you love to sleep in, Sans.”

He chuckles and nods. Papyrus shakes his head.

With that settled, you go on the lodge’s website and book a three-bedroom cabin for two nights. You wince a little at the cost, but between you taking on a few extra shifts and Sans doing...whatever it is he does, you should have it covered.

After you receive an email confirmation of your purchase, you head into the kitchen. When you were growing up, your mother always made special Halloween cookies to hand out to the trick-or-treaters in lieu of candy. Now that you’re away for the holiday, you’ve started doing it, too. Last year the only people you could hand them out to were drunk college students, so this year you hope you get some actual kids. They’ll probably thank you for the cookies, instead of turning around to chug more spiked punch. That was not a fun party.

You went to the store a few days back and bought several boxes of Pillsbury Halloween cookies, so you pull them out of the freezer and turn on the oven. It’s barely noon, but you have literally hundreds of cookies to make before kids start arriving.

Half an hour later, a pleasant aroma is permeating throughout the house. Sans stumbles into the kitchen and you wave at him with one hand as you pull the first batch out of the oven with the other.

“What’re you makin’, babe?” he asks as he comes up behind you.

“Halloween cookies,” you say. He tries to reach for one but you slap his hand away. “For the _kids,_ numbskull.”

“I’ll have you know that my skull is perfectly sensitive, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes as you shift the cookies onto a rack to cool and open another box, spreading out the dough on the cookie sheet. One box down, fourteen to go.

Sans sidles up next to you as you place the cookie sheet in the oven. “So who are these kids you’re makin’ all these cookies for?”

After you shut the door, you turn to face him. “Don’t you guys ever get trick-or-treaters around here?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t been in the house that long. We didn’t move in until...March or so. Paps and I stayed in some shitty apartment building in town before.”

“Oh,” you say. You realize that you know hardly anything about Sans and Papyrus’ surface life before they met you. “Was it...that bad?”

“Nowhere near as nice as this place,” he says, leaning up against the counter. “Most of us monsters were just happy to be out of the Underground. Let a lot of humans take advantage of that.”

He goes quiet, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s had more encounters with people like the men from the alley. Or if he knows someone else who has. You know from experience that this town isn’t as safe as you once thought it was.

You’re both brought out of your quiet thoughts a few minutes later when the oven beeps at you. The second batch is done. You whisk the cookies out of the oven before they even have a chance to burn, and turn around to clear the cookie rack.

Only to see Sans sneaking off with a cookie in his hand.

“I _see_ you, Sans!” you exclaim. He whips around, a sheepish smile on his face.

“What can I say babe, your cookies looked so delicious, I had to try one.”

You narrow your eyes. Flattery ain’t gonna work here.

“I told you those were for the _kids_!” You storm after him, and he bolts around the corner. Why can’t he show the same kind of energy when he’s doing the dishes?

Leaving the kitchen, you’re caught off guard by a pair of bony arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You yelp as you're lifted off the ground and carried to the couch by a grinning Sans. He takes a seat with you pinned to his lap.

“Glad to see I can _sweep you off your feet,_ ” he says. You roll your eyes and try to stand up, but Sans is too strong for you.

“We can cuddle _after_ all the trick-or-treaters are gone,” you say.

“Promise?” he whispers in your ear. You let out a little shiver.

“Promise.”

He relents, and you head back to the kitchen to deal with the cookies.

* * *

 

By 6:30, you have two hundred or so bags of cookies. You might have gone a little overboard, you think to yourself as you dump them into a bucket to put by the door. But that’s fine. There’ll just be extras left over for yourself.

Papyrus is _very_ intrigued by the concept of Halloween. This is the first time since he and Sans have left the underground that they can truly appreciate the holiday. He is especially flattered when you tell him how important skeletons are to Halloween...leaving out the part about how human skeletons are just over-rotted corpses. Gross.

His general excitement for the holiday as well as his bony exterior gives you an idea. What better way to spend Halloween than to watch a classic movie almost synonymous with the holiday?

You go to Netflix and pull up The Nightmare Before Christmas, practically forcing Sans and Papyrus to watch it with you (Papyrus needs very little convincing). A minute or so after it starts, the doorbell rings, and you scramble up to answer it. You’re greeted with a friendly face.

“Hey Frisk! What’re you dressed as?”

They grin up at you and raise their hands to slowly sign for you.

I’m a ghost!

To your pleasant surprise, you manage to catch the sentence as it slips from their fingers. The past semester, you’ve been taking an ASL class, and now you and Frisk are starting to have short conversations. When they get excited sometimes they sign too fast for you to catch and Sans or Toriel has to translate, but it’s a start.

“Well, you have a very nice sheet!” you say. Glancing behind them, you see Toriel standing there, giving you a gentle smile.

They sign a thank-you as you lean down to grab a bag of cookies. You drop it into their bag and give them a high-five.

“Have fun, kiddo!”

They wave goodbye and you close the door. Stepping back into the living room, Papyrus is enraptured by the film.

“, look! The main character is a skeleton!”

“I know, Pap!” you say. “Jack’s a pretty cool guy.”

The rest of the night consists of you standing up every time the doorbell rings, greeting kids, and giving them bags of cookies. You get a lot more people than you expected, and just as many monster kids as human ones. This town has a bigger monster population than you thought.

The crowds start dying down by 9, and at 9:30 you turn off the porch lights and lock the door. Looking down at the bucket, you’re happy to see it’s nearly empty. At least you didn’t make all those cookies for nothing.

Papyrus is ready to go to bed pretty soon after 10, and you and Sans both head up with him. When you discovered that Sans reads to him every night, you insisted on joining in. Papyrus loves it; you and Sans get super into it, acting out voices for the characters.

Tonight is no exception. You and Sans have started reading Harry Potter, and your attempt at a British accent really sells the story. The two of you make it through the first chapter before Papyrus starts nodding off and you call it a night.

After you head back downstairs, Sans wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. “Can we cuddle now?” he asks.

You smile as you gravitate towards the couch. “I suppose so.”

* * *

 

Like most “cuddling” sessions with Sans, this one devolves pretty quickly into a shameless make-out fest. When Sans first showed you how he could form a corporeal tongue, you weren't sure how to feel. It was clear that he was also worried about your reaction. Eventually, both of you realized that your worries were silly.

Skeletons tongues are fucking _amazing_ for making out with.

You’re leaning up against the arm of the couch, your arms wrapped around Sans, a hand cradling the base of his skull. His arms come down on either side of you to stabilize himself as he leans down over you. His tongue twists itself into your mouth, and you let out a soft moan as it presses against yours. His tongue doesn’t feel like a human tongue does. It’s...slimy, and unnaturally cool. The first time you felt it was a little surprising, but now there's almost nothing else you’d rather have in your mouth.

Your knee hitches up when Sans pushes particularly hard, and it brushes up between his legs. He lets out a groan and you blush.

“S-sorry,” you say, pulling away from him so you can speak.

He looks down at you, and you see a fire in his eyes. And you're not just talking about the flame in his left eye, even though that’s there too. You see an ardent desire reflected there, a physical need branded in his face.

“Don’t be,” he says before kissing you hard again, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek. You're burning up from the heat of the moment and you feel your chest tighten. You know what he wants. He’s making it abundantly clear right now. And you’re pretty sure you want it too. But...you hesitate. You’re not sure you’re ready, and you don’t want to ruin what you have with Sans.

You push up on his chest and he stops, backing off immediately.

“You okay?” he asks. He’s breathing hard and you feel bad, but you know that if you continue in this way, you won’t have a good time.

“Yeah, yeah, I just...” Your voice shifts down to a mumble. “I just don't want to go any further right now. I’m really sorry.”

He sits back on the couch and you push yourself up, sitting criss-cross facing him. You look down, worried that you’ve offended him or made him feel bad.

You feel Sans’ bony hand rest on your knee, and you look up. He smiles sheepishly at you, and you let slip a small smile back.

“We can take as long as you want,” he says. You feel a rush of warmth in your chest and you relax. It’s okay. He’s okay with it. Everything is fine.

“Besides,” he says, breaking you out of your reverie. “I _really_ don't mind being a lazy bone around you.”

You let out a small laugh, more out of relief than anything else. Seeing you relax makes him smile too, and you reach over to give him a peck on the cheek before you start heading up to bed. “Goodnight, bone boy.”

“‘Night, babe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha you guys thought THINGS were gonna happen, i bet
> 
> but NOT YET!!!!
> 
> consent is very important to me, and should be very important to everyone. make sure you have free and wiling consent, and if you have reservations about what you're about to do, you should probably take a step back, like Reader did.
> 
> Here ends my talk on healthy sexual relationships.
> 
> See you on Friday (hopefully)!


	14. Means to an End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo just for clarification purposes:
> 
> Alphys and Undyne's wedding is the second weekend of December, and this chapter takes place the day before. Which makes the time skip from last chapter to this one about a month and a half? Something like that. 
> 
> I have a jazz competition tomorrow morning, yikes. But then my friends are picking me up and we're heading out for the weekend. I am so ready to blow this town for a few days. 
> 
> But before I can do that, here's the chapter!

“Did you pack everything you need, Pap?”

“I certainly hope so!”

So do you. Papyrus has managed to fill an entire rather large suitcase with everything he needs for two nights away from home. It’s pretty impressive, how much stuff he can find to bring. Add that to Sans’ garbage bag full of his things and your garment bag with yours, and you know you’re going to have a hard time fitting it all in your car. 

Eventually you compromise by shoving your and Sans’ things in the trunk, while Papyrus’ suitcase sits in the backseat. It’s only an hour or so to the lodge, it’ll be bearable for that long. Of course, part of this compromise is that Papyrus has to sit in the back with his suitcase. Luckily, he’s totally cool with this.

You feel a small twinge of anxiety when you look at your watch. 1:14. Your Calculus class just started. You’ve enlisted Julie to take notes for you, but you know it’ll be hard to figure out your assignment on your own. But you still think it’s a better idea to skip your classes today and head to the lodge earlier than to wait and head over later tonight. So the three of you pile in, and you drive off. 

The ride up there is pretty calm. You stop at the grocery store on the way up, picking up anything you think you might need. Papyrus wants to cook dinner tonight, so you grab a box of noodles and some sauce. When you’re back on the road again, Papyrus chatters away, but eventually his voice fades away into the background. Your iPod is plugged into the speaker system, and you hum along to the music as the road rushes by.  At some point Sans must have fallen asleep, because when you arrive at the lodge to check in, he’s leaning up against the window, soft noises coming from his closed jaw. 

Well if that isn't just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s almost a shame to wake him up, so you take a picture and tell Papyrus to wait in the car while you check in. 

When you come back outside, key in hand, Sans is stirring. You drive up to the cabin and park the car.

Between the three of you, everything makes it inside on the first trip. 

You dump your stuff into the bedroom on the right of the hallway, and Sans does the same in the bedroom across the hall. Papyrus, meanwhile, bolts upstairs carrying his suitcase and claims the third bedroom for himself.

The three of you barely have time to take a breather before Sans’ phone buzzes. You glance at him as he checks it.

“Tori ‘n Frisk are here,” he says. “Frisk wants to go check out the pool and Tori wants to know if we wanna go, too.”

You hear Papyrus’ voice from upstairs. “I would LOVE to go!” 

“Yeah, and I brought a swimsuit,” you say. What you wouldn’t give for a good swim. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

The pool isn’t terribly big, but as Undyne predicted, there’s pretty much no one staying at the lodge but the wedding guests. Frisk is already swimming by the time you get there, and Papyrus wastes no time cannonballing into the deep end. You expect him to sink, his bones are pretty dense. But he...floats back up, and you shake your head. Monster magic. 

Feeling particularly adventurous, you join the two of them, waving hello to Toriel, who has elected to sit on the side and read a book. You look around to find Sans, and finally spot him over in the hot tub. His eyes are closed, and he looks extremely relaxed. The thought makes you smile. You know he’s been constantly worried about you lately. He deserves some time to unwind.

Suddenly something soft and squishy strikes the back of your head, and you hear giggling behind you. Turning around, you find a foam ball floating in the water, along with a snorting Papyrus and Frisk collapsed over with silent laughter.

“Better watch it, you two,” you warn, a sly smile creeping into your face. “I have pretty good aim.”

With no further warning, you grab the ball and pelt it at Frisk. They’re caught by surprise and the ball hits them right in the head. You’re worried for a split second until they turn to you, grinning. 

What follows next can only be described as an all-out war, Frisk and Papyrus against you. It's not fair, you think to yourself. Papyrus must think so, too, because after ten minutes or so he decides to try to make peace talks and end the confrontation. But neither you nor Frisk can be stopped in your quests for total pool domination. 

Eventually you've taken one too many hits to the face and you concede defeat. Frisk jumps up in celebration and you give them a conciliatory handshake before pushing yourself out of the pool. You’ve had enough of these shenanigans. Instead, you elect to go join Sans in the hot tub. 

Sliding into the steaming water instantly causes your muscles to relax, and you let out a little groan. Sans opens his eyes, and grins when he sees you coming to join him. 

“The pool too  _ cool  _ for ya?” he asks as you sit next to him on he bench. 

“Yeah, I wasn't feeling the  _ heat _ ,” you counter. “I’m curious. Do you, uh, actually feel the water? Like, the temperature difference?”

He smirks at you. “My bones are more sensitive than you give ‘em credit for.” His tone sends a shiver up your spine, the good kind. “There’s a lot I can feel.”

You remember back to Halloween, and a blush creeps up onto your face. You know firsthand how touchy his bones can be. 

If he notices you blushing, he doesn't say anything about it, which you’re thankful for. You scoot closer to him, and lean your head onto his bony shoulder. Slightly less comfortable bare than with a sweatshirt buffer, but not that bad. 

The combination of steamy air around you and the warmth of your body allows your mind to drift.

Ever since Halloween you’ve been assessing and reassessing your relationship with Sans. He’s been backing off on physical affection, probably out of respect for your comfort level, which is great. Amazing, actually. It’s so refreshing to be dating someone who respects your boundaries wholeheartedly. 

But you’ve been thinking about where you want the relationship to go, in situations where your thoughts aren’t tainted by your emotions, like when you’re supposed to be taking notes in Calculus. And as you’ve thought about it, you’ve come to a conclusion. You want to do it. You want to have sex with Sans. But at this point, when he’s so careful not to overstep your boundaries, you’re not sure how to tell him. 

You ponder the possibilities for a few more minutes until you realize that Frisk is trying to get your attention by waving at you from the side of the pool. You wave back to show that you see them, and they start to sign. 

We’re all done. Time for dinner!

They sign the second part with enthusiasm and you smile. You bet Toriel’s making something great. Maybe she’ll save some leftovers that you can snag tomorrow. 

You all go your separate ways, Toriel and Frisk upstairs to their room, you, Papyrus, and Sans to your cabin. The chlorine is starting to make your face itch, so you hop in the shower right away. There’s one in your bedroom, so no awkward dashing around while wearing only a towel for you. 

The bathroom is  _ really  _ nice. There’s a bathtub complete with water jets, and the shower is way bigger than what you’re used to at the house. The water is warm on your body, and you’re thankful. It is winter in Minnesota, and it is freezing outside. You let the water run over you for a few minutes before you go through your normal shower routine. 

When you get out, you hear Papyrus in the kitchen, already starting on dinner. You can smell the spaghetti sauce, and you’re immediately concerned about the heat capacity of the stove. It’s a much earlier model than he’s used to. This cabin itself isn’t exactly built to handle Papyrus-level cooking. In a rush to keep the kitchen from bursting into flames (it could happen, you never know), you unzip your garment bag and grab the first T-shirt you can find and a pair of pajama pants. Heading into the kitchen, you find everything still in one piece. You subtly turn down the heat on the stove and offer to help Papyrus with the noodles. He’s happy to let you, and the two of you work for a few minutes until you think you’re in the clear.

“?” Papyrus asks when he finally looks at you, previously focused on the spaghetti in front of him. “Why are you wearing Sans’ shirt?”

What. 

In a panic, you look down, only to see that he’s right. It’s a black T-shirt with a human rib cage on it. How did  _ that  _ make it into your garment bag? 

“Sorry!” you cry as you whip around to face Sans, who’s lounging on the couch. “I guess I must have packed it by accident.”

He waved it off. “Nah, it’s cool. Besides, you look great in it.”

You smile, blushing a little, and go to set the table now that you're sure Papyrus won’t burn the cabin down. As you set down the plates, Sans comes up behind you and leans in to touch his teeth to your cheek. You elbow him playfully in return, but he doesn't move away, instead whispering in your ear.

“Know where the shirt’d look even better?” His voice drops even further. “On my floor.”

You can’t help it, you let out a quiet gasp. He hasn't done anything like this since Halloween. You're a little caught off-guard, but in truth, you’re kind of relieved. Now you might not have to breach the subject of sex on your own after all.

Of course, when Sans hears you gasp, he immediately assumes the worst. 

“I-I mean, if you want to!” he stammers. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, too, I, uh-”

You’ve never seen Sans so nervous. It’s a weird feeling.

“Sans,” you say in a tone barely above a whisper. His head shoots up and his eyes lock with yours.

“I’ve been thinking about, well, us,” you begin, still not really sure how to approach this. “And I think I’m ready to, uh, take the next step?” His eyes haven’t left yours, and you swallow, forcing yourself to continue. “Not like, tonight or anything. But...soon. Is that okay with you?” Sans hasn’t moved since you started talking. “Sans?”

You reach out and touch his arm, and that seems to break him out of his funk. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, that's great,” he says. You smile. 

Before either of you can say anything more, Papyrus brings over the pan of spaghetti noodles, putting a heaping pile on each plate. He dumps out the contents of the saucepan on each pile, and then looks at the two of you expectantly. You laugh, and take a bite. 

It’s pretty good, and you tell him so. He’s ecstatic, as usual, and from across the table Sans winks at you, causing you to laugh. 

After dinner is finished, you help Papyrus clean up. When everything is put away in the dishwasher, you look at the time. Already 10. The day sure went by fast.

You know tomorrow is going to be a very long day, with the wedding and the very long reception that’s sure to follow. To prepare for it, you’ll need all the sleep you can get. So you say goodnight to the two brothers, giving Sans a peck on the cheek, grinning when you see the light blue dusting on his cheek. 

As you start to fall asleep, all you can think about is the wedding tomorrow, and what you’ve more or less agreed to do with Sans. 

Hopefully sooner rather than later. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it will definitely be sooner rather than later, reader. just you wait.
> 
> Sorry about all the time-skips between the last few chapters, guys. The jump from Halloween to December was definitely the biggest so far, and probably the biggest for the whole fic, honestly. I have a general plan for the next few chapters, and they all probably take place within a month of the wedding. Yes, there will be a Christmas chapter. It will be fun for everyone.
> 
> Also I am not sure when I will be able to update again? Chapter 15 is by far the most ambitious of the fic so far, in terms of covering lots of stuff. How I have it spelled out, it's the whole wedding + reception. And I only have part of chapter 16 planned out. So I miiiiiight take until Monday to update, maybe even later, just because I want to hammer out more plans and also chapter 15 is gonna be a beast to write.
> 
> See you then!


	15. Some Things Were Meant To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend you listen to [this](http://stfuadachi.tumblr.com/post/134163371219) while you read the chapter :)
> 
> I literally wrote the whole chapter today. Started like 11 hours ago, and after breaks for homework and orchestra rehearsal, here it is!

You wake up early, your heart pounding with excitement for the day ahead. Peeking out the window, you see that it’s still dark outside. Glancing at your phone, you see it’s only 7:13. Stupid winter. It’s always so dark in the morning.

Knowing full well that you won't be getting back to sleep today, you pull yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom to wash your face. After you’re done, you go into the kitchen and pour yourself a bowl of cereal. As you’re eating you get an idea. You know that Papyrus won't get up until at least 9 or 10, and if Sans wakes up before 11 it’ll be a miracle. So, instead of slinking around the house trying to be quiet for a couple of hours, you decide to text Toriel.

**Hi Toriel! Are you guys awake yet? I was wondering if I could come hang out for a while.**

You put down your phone to set your bowl in the sink, and by the time you get back there’s a message waiting for you.

**That would be wonderful! Frisk would love to see you! :)**

Glad you have a plan now, you slip on a coat and heat out into the cold weather. You could use a walk anyway.

The lodge isn't too far away; you can see it from your cabin. But it’s still a few minutes’ walk, and by the time you get there, you're shivering a little bit. You should have brought a thicker coat, but oh well. You’re not going to be out for that long.

You text Toriel to let her know you’re there, and she texts you their room number. 237. You hardly knock on the door before it swings open, and you’re greeted by none other than Undyne.

“What are you doing here, Undyne?” you ask. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?”

“It’s eight in the morning, and the wedding’s not until like four. I have plenty of time. Besides,” here she looks over her shoulder. “I wanted to hang out with Frisk.

You look, too, and Frisk waves and signs something to you.

She’s nervous. 

“I am NOT, punk!” she says, storming over to them, where there’s a game of checkers going on. You follow her in, and take off your coat to hang it on the back of a stool in the kitchen. Toriel is there, and she says hello to you.

“Would you like a piece of pie, dear?” she says, offering you a plate. Your mouth waters, your previous meal forgotten.

You nod vigorously. “Yes _please._ ” She chuckles and hands you the plate and a fork. You thank her and dive right into it. As you marvel in the sanctity of butterscotch-cinnamon pie, you and Toriel chat for a while. She’s such a comforting presence. Sometimes, when you feel homesick, you go over to her house and just talk with her for a while. Even though you’re twenty years old, she still mothers you, and it feels so nice.

As you finish your pie, you hear a scream of frustration from behind you. Undyne must have lost. You turn around to see a seething Undyne and a hysterical Frisk. With a quick glance at the game board, you can see that it was a slaughter fest.

“How about this game, huh?” Undyne says, pulling out Twister from the bookshelf. “C’mon , you can spin for us.”

You shrug and take a seat on the couch, watching them unfold the game mat. Undyne practically throws the spinner at you, and you scramble for it. The two of them look at you, and you begin.

“Okay, left foot on blue…”

* * *

 

A couple hours later, you’ve cycled through most of the games in the hotel room. After Twister (which Undyne won), you played Life, Sorry, Yahtzee, etc. Toriel joined you for the last few, and you’re all having a good time. Especially Undyne. You can tell she’s much more relaxed than when you arrived this morning. She smiling and laughing, and all around having a great time.

You excuse yourself to grab a soda from the fridge and reach into your coat pocket to grab your phone. When you turn it on, you’re shocked by what you see. Five missed texts from Sans, one call from him, and ten calls from Papyrus. Your eyes flit to the clock above the stove. 12:48.

All of a sudden you’re struck with a desire to smack yourself in the forehead. In your excitement to get out of the cabin this morning, you forgot to leave a note to tell the brothers where you went. You think you know exactly what happened. Papyrus woke up and was confused as to why you weren't up. So he looked in your bedroom, and you weren’t there. He probably called you a few times and then when you didn't answer he woke up Sans.

You check your texts.

**hey**

**where are you**

**babe please**

**are you okay**

**please babe cmon answer me**

Your stomach drops. Poor Sans, he must be thinking the worst right now. You duck into the bathroom and call him. The first ring barely ends before he answers.

“Babe, where are you?” You can hear the panicked tone behind his voice, and you feel like absolute shit.

“I’m at the lodge,” you say. “Toriel’s room. I forgot to leave you guys a note, I’m so sorry.” You look at the clock. “I’m heading out in a minute, I need to eat lunch and get dressed.”

“Okay,” Sans says. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He hangs up, and you let out a sigh.

Going back into the living room, you tell Toriel that it’s nearly noon. She nods, reassuring you that she’ll make sure Undyne gets ready on time. You say goodbye to everyone, and say that you'll see them later, wishing Undyne good luck. She sticks her tongue out at you. True friendship.

You head out into the lobby and Sans is there waiting for you at the base of the stairs. You can see him visibly relax when he sees you, and you happily take his proffered hand. Before you can blink, you’re back in the cabin, the aftershocks of his teleportation magic coursing through your body.

“I’m sorry again about forgetting to say that I was going somewhere,” you say. “I didn’t even mean to be gone that long, but then Undyne was there and we just kept playing different games and Toriel gave me pie and I-” You’re cut off by Sans’s finger brushing against your lip in a ‘shhh’ motion. You feel a blush creeping into your skin from the touch.

“It’s cool,” he says, smiling at you. You’re not sure it’s genuine. “As long as you’re okay.”

You make a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch and then retreat into your room to get ready for the wedding, telling Sans and Papyrus that they should do the same.

There’s not much you want to do with your hair, so you just spend a few minutes with a brush making sure it’s a little nicer than usual. You feel the same about your makeup; you put on foundation, like normal, but you add blush, mascara, and some fancy eyeshadow that matches your dress. For your lips, you go with a muted red color. You let everything sit for a minute before you slip the dress on, grateful that you can zip it up by yourself. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you grin. You look _great._ The dress fits just as well as it did when you bought it, and your makeup only adds to it. It’s still a little long, so you slip on a pair of black heels that you only wear on special occasions. They give you a whole three more inches of height.

Your ensemble complete, you grab your purse from the side of the bed. As you reach for it, you hear a loud knock from the other side of the door.

“It is almost time to go!” cries Papyrus. “Are you ready to leave, ?”

In lieu of answering, you turn the knob and enter the hallway. The brothers are in front of you, truly a sight to behold. Sans catches your eye first. He’s wearing a formal black suit with a white shirt and a bright blue tie. It’s a simple enough ensemble, but on Sans it’s something special. Your lips curl into a smile, and you look down, cheeks blushing. He looks _amazing._ You run a hand through your hair, hoping that you look okay in comparison. Looking at Papyrus, you see he’s wearing the same suit as Sans, only with an orange tie. They must have gotten them together.

“Wow, you guys look great,” you say, finally managing to look back up at Sans.

“You look WONDERFUL, !” You hear Papyrus’ compliment, but you’re looking at Sans, who’s smiling just as big as you are. Papyrus says he’s heading for the car, and you and Sans are left alone in the hallway.

“You, uh, you look really nice,” he says, holding his arm out for you to take.

You reach for him, intertwining your arm around his. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” you say as the two of you head out to the car, ready to go to the wedding.

* * *

 

Asgore stands proud and tall at the altar, and you’re glad he was able to officiate the wedding. In all honesty, planning this thing has been a nightmare. Between figuring out if it was even legal for two monsters to marry, finding a location, caterers, et cetera that don’t discriminate against monsters, and finding time to work these problems in between all your classes, you’ve been dealing with a lot of stress. But Asgore was willing to put in the work to get certified, which took more of the weight off your shoulders. And you can’t think of anyone better to conduct the ceremony for Undyne and Alphys.

As they stand in front of him, gazing at each other with such love in their eyes, you can’t help the tears that start forming in your eyes. You touch a tissue to the corners of your eyes to get rid of them, and you see a few rows up that Mettaton is crying, too. You don’t think there’s any water or tears of any sort coming out, he’s just making a very big show of sobbing into his hands. It makes you giggle a little bit.

When the two of them say “I do,” you clutch Sans’ hand and you can feel new tears springing to life in your eyes. You’re not sure why you love weddings so much, but maybe it’s because of all the hope, happiness, and love they symbolize. You would give anything to marry someone who loved you as much as Undyne and Alphys love each other. Asgore tells them that they may kiss, and you hear several wolf-whistles ring out when Undyne picks Alphys up and dips her, smooching her right on the lips. Papyrus is cheering at top volume, and you let go of Sans’ hand to clap with everyone else. When their faces part, they’re both flushed, but you’ve never seen either of them look so happy.

* * *

 

Sans walks hand-in-hand with you as a lodge employee guides everyone to the reception area, where a bunch of circular tables are set up with a space for dancing in the middle. You lead him to a table right by the edge of the dance floor, and he follows gladly, not taking his eyes off of you.

Waking up to Papyrus shaking him, yelling at him that you were gone was the scariest experience he’s ever had on the surface. When you didn’t answer any of his texts or his and Papyrus’ calls, he wasn’t sure what to think. He was about to go out and look for you when his phone rang, a picture of you popping up on it. When he answered it and heard your voice, he calmed down for the first time today.

And what you said last night, about being ready to take the next step in your relationship. The thought sends shivers down his bones, being with you in that way. He’s done some, ah, _research_ on the Internet about how to please a female partner, and he can’t wait to see if it’s paid off. He knows he needs to wait for you to make a move, and he’s fine with that. He’s willing to wait for it if it means you’ll both have a good time.

He looks over at you again, in your beautiful dress. When you came out of your bedroom earlier, it took all his self control not to let his jaw drop. You looked absolutely stunning. If he had a heart, it would have stopped beating at that moment. He still can’t believe he has someone like you, someone who laughs at his jokes, who’s funny, who’s cute. You make him so happy, the happiest he’s been since leaving the Underground.

As the staff come out with plates heaping with food for the reception, Sans counts his blessings one more time.

* * *

 

Food sitting in your stomach and a small glass of champagne from the toasts knocked back, you’re ready to dance. But, as is human (and monster, it turns out) tradition, Undyne and Alphys have the first dance. As Undyne is about a foot and a half taller than Alphys, she gives up halfway through and hoists her up, swinging her around in her arms. It’s very cute.

Once their dance is done, it’s open season. You stand up immediately and move to the floor, spotting Bratty and Catty. You dance with them for a while, talking about the cafe and wondering how it’s going, now that Nicole’s three best baristas aren’t there for the weekend. You shift around after a while, dancing and talking with different monsters. At one point, you stumble across Frisk on the floor, dancing with a monster who...doesn’t have arms. You ask if you can cut in, and you and Frisk twirl around for a few minutes, spinning in circles until you’re both dizzy.

You stumble back to your table and take a seat, noting that Sans hasn’t moved since dinner started.

“Hey, lazybones,” you say. “Dancing too much for you?”

Sans shrugs. “I got two left feet.” He taps his shoe and you let out a giggle. You look around the room and spot Undyne and Alphys dancing in a corner, never moving more than a few feet from each other.

“Weddings are so great,” you say to Sans. “I mean, look at them.” You tilt your head back towards the couple. “They’re so _happy._ And dancing is so much fun, I love any excuse to dance.”

You’re not sure whether you should go ahead and say outright that you want to dance with Sans, or if you should keep dropping hints. Because you would really, _really_ like to dance with him. You’ve never been at a wedding with a date before. At the weddings you’ve been to before, every time a slow song played you would sit out, watching everyone else dance with their significant other. You’ll be damned if you let the same thing happen tonight.

On the other hand, you don’t want to force Sans to do anything he’s uncomfortable with. With how respectful he’s been of your personal boundaries lately, that would just be hypocritical. So you decide to keep dropping hints. If he doesn't do anything, than oh well. You’ll still have a fun night.

But it turns out you won't have to wait that long. Just a few minutes later, the DJ makes an announcement over the microphone.

“For all you couples out here, here’s an old classic!”

The song starts, and you gasp. It’s one of your favorites. Your eyes fly to Sans, and he seems to finally get the message. He stands up and holds out a bony hand.

“May I have this dance?”

You nod and take his hand, grinning ear to ear. He leads you onto the dance floor, and you put your hand on his waist. You start to sway together, and when the words start, you can’t keep yourself from singing along.

“Wise men say only fools rush in.” You smile at Sans, unbelievably happy that you’re dancing with him. “But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

It feels like you're floating when you dance with him. Like the only thing that matters in the whole universe is the music and Sans.

All too soon, the song is over. But before you can pull away, Sans pulls you in, slowly pressing his teeth to your lips. You close your eyes, letting yourself melt into him. When the kiss finishes, you walk hand-in-hand back to the table.

The rest of the evening passes in a similar fashion. You get up and dance to a few faster songs with Frisk or Papyrus, but nothing can compare to the dance you shared with Sans. You’re so happy that he danced with you. It fills you with a glow that persists all evening.

The crowd starts thinning out around ten. Most of the monster families are leaving, including Toriel and Frisk. Papyrus comes up to tell you and Sans that he’s going with them, so he and Frisk can have a sleepover. You tell him to have a good time and to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Not that that’ll be a problem. Frisk’s eyelids are drooping when they sign goodbye to you and Papyrus’ movements are pretty sluggish. Toriel assures you they’ll be fine and they head out towards the stairs.

You and Sans stick around for a few more minutes, but eventually you get going, too. You say goodbye to Undyne and Alphys, who’re sitting down and holding hands. Goodness that’s cute. The two of you leave after that, and you’re thankful all you had to drink was that one glass of champagne as you navigate the icy road down to the cabin.

Once you’re both inside, you shut the door, and silence rings throughout the cabin. It strikes you that Papyrus isn’t here; he’s with Toriel and Frisk. In other words, you’re alone with Sans until morning.

You have a pretty good idea of what you want to do with these next few hours.

“Hey, Sans?” you start as you shrug off your coat.

“Mmhmm?”

You bend down to pull off your shoes. “Papyrus isn’t here, right?”

“...Yeah?”

You stand back up, biting your lip and looking him straight in the eyes. “And you know what you said yesterday, about my clothes looking better on your floor?”

He nods quickly, realizing where this is going.

“Do you want to test that theory?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter should be fun to write ;)
> 
> I have knocked out smut in less than two hours before, but I wouldn't expect this before Wednesday. I am DEFINITELY going to put a lot of thought into this. It's very important. 
> 
> See you sinners later!


	16. Tender and Raw*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I KNOW i said not to expect anything until Wednesday night but I had more time to write to day than I thought I did AND something I had to do was canceled last minute, so I had a lot more time to write than I originally accounted for. So I managed to finish this.
> 
> no matter how hard I try I can't write smut that lasts longer than like 1200 words. sorry this is so short.
> 
> But that being said, enjoy this 100% verified sin, courtesy of yours truly.
> 
> ;)

Sans is silent for a few seconds, and you’re suddenly worried that you did something wrong. You open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to the punch.

“Are you sure?”

You can’t believe it. After what you said, he’s _still_ checking to see if it’s okay. Unbelievable. He is without a doubt the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. When you look into his eyes, you can see it there. You can see that he wants this just as much as you do. But you don't think he knows how _much_ you want it.

“Sans, oh my god!” you say incredulously. “Do you think I would be asking you if I didn't want to have sex with you? I want it! I want _you.”_ You put as much conviction into your voice as you possibly can.

It’s enough. Sans’ expression changes from one of concern and apprehension to something you haven't seen since Halloween. His grin shifts into something hungry, something _carnal,_ and you have to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Before you can blink, he’s on you, holding you against the back of the couch and pushing his tongue inside your mouth. You accept it greedily, wrapping an arm around his waist for leverage. Everything feels so right on this moment, and you can't believe it.

Sans pushes forward and you bend backwards over the couch a little. Ow. You push back on him and stand up straight, and he immediately pulls back, concern returning to his face.

“C-can we move this somewhere more comfortable?” you ask, arousal clouding your voice. “Like my bedroom?”

He nods, and the two of you practically dash inside. You slam the door behind you and turn the lock. Papyrus is spending the night in the lodge, but you can never be too careful. The _last_ thing you want is him barging in on this. As you’re turning the bolt, you feel his fingers at your neck, fumbling with the zipper on your dress. He pulls it down all the way and as you turn around the dress falls off your shoulders, cascading down around your body before you can catch it. Not content to be the only one undressed, you pull at the buttons on his jacket and push it off of him, revealing the shirt underneath.

You start working at the buttons, but he hoists you up by your legs and you’re forced to hold onto him for support. He brings you over to the bed and tips you down onto it, but before he can do anything else you grab his tie and pull him down with it. His eyes go wide as you kiss him, and you smirk at having the upper hand. He scrambles onto the bed for better leverage and you gasp, letting go of the tie when you feel his hand at your panties. The gasp turns into a moan when his finger rubs back and forth over the fabric.

“That feel good?” he muses. You can barely manage a nod, heat already pooling at the base of your abdomen. Reaching for his hand, you guide it underneath your panties and show him where to rub to make you feel _really_ good. As his finger brushes back and forth over your clit your legs twitch, and you can feel the pressure building up into something almost unbearable. You buck up into his hand, trying to find release.

Without warning, you explode, white light dancing at the edge of your vision. You let out a high-pitched moan as you ride out the orgasm, your mouth hanging open. As you come down, you look at Sans, and he's staring at you with most incredulous look. You would blush, but your mind isn’t really concerned with that right now.

“Holy shit,” Sans says. Understatement of the year. “Was that...right?”

You groan a little as you sit up, but you send a pleasant smile his way. “Are you kidding? That felt _amazing._ ”

Sans’ smile twitches, and you’re acutely aware of a blue tint to the room that wasn't there before. Your eyes drift downward to the seam of his pants, and you can see something bright blue behind the fabric. He notices your gaze, and looks down as well. “I-uh,” he says, looking away from you, a blue flush on his cheekbones.

Your arousal hitches back up, and you lean forward, undoing Sans’ belt buckle. When he realizes what you want, he helps you, pushing his pants down to expose his hips and his bright, cyan blue cock. You’re transfixed by it, taking a hand and gripping it at the base.

You hear a sharp intake of breath and you look up at Sans, who’s staring at your hand.

“Shit, babe,” he says, sweat beading on his skull. You take this as a go-ahead to move faster, pumping your hand up and down the shaft. It’s a similar texture to his tongue, and your hand glides along easily. Translucent blue pre-cum is leaking out of the tip, so you swirl your thumb around the head to collect it. You lock eyes with Sans as you lick it off your thumb, and you see his expression shift into something more animalistic.

He gently but firmly pushes you back down onto the bed, pulling down your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him. You prop yourself up on your elbows and he leans down and kisses you again, his tongue forcing its way between your teeth. His hand comes down to rub at your folds again, and you moan into his mouth. He pulls back and smirks at you, watching you squirm as he plunges a finger inside of you. You feel it rubbing along your walls and you scrabble at the bed sheet, trying to find a hold on reality.

“Doin’ okay, babe?” Sans asks. You can do little more than whine and nod in response, desperate for something more substantial inside of you. He chuckles at your reaction and pushes in another finger. Your eyes bulge as they curl inside you, hitting a spot you can’t reach on your own. You let out a surprised yelp and reach up to grab onto Sans, missing him and brushing his clavicle instead. You know from experience that it’s a sensitive spot.

He lets out a groan and draws his fingers out of you, a slick noise accompanying them. You moan at the sudden emptiness but then you feel something much larger poking at your entrance. You buck up, willing Sans to push it in, to fill you up.

“You good?” he asks, more of a grunt than a question.

“S-sans, _please,”_ you beg, the heat emanating from your core threatening to drive you insane.

Your verbal plea is all the confirmation he needs. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushes in, your canal stretching to accommodate his girth. As he slides in, you let out a high-pitched moan, your eyes rolling back in your head from the sheer pleasure you’re in.

He hold his position, and then, _oh god,_ he starts to move in and out of you. You can do little more than lie there, drool pooling from your mouth as he fucks you into the mattress. You’ve never felt so much pleasure in your life. You know you’re close for the second time tonight.

As you come you breathe out his name, your muscles clenching around him. The combination of the pressure and your words must drive him over the edge, because with a grunt he comes too, filling you up with sticky liquid that feels so cool but so warm at the same time.

After he pulls out of you, you collapse back onto the bed, having arched your back during your climax. You’re breathing hard, your mind barely able to process what just happened. You just simply lie there on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling as your chest heaves up and down. There’s a flash of blue, and suddenly the room is dark again, and you feel the bed compress next to you as Sans lies down. You reach over and find his hand, grasping it with your own.

“How was that?” he murmurs in your ear as he draws the blankets over the two of you. “Was I _sansational?”_

You giggle and nod, before realizing that he can’t see you. “T-that was amazing. I’ve never had sex like that before.”

He cups your cheek with his hand. “You mean with a skeleton?”

“Yes and no,” you chuckle. “Like, no one’s ever made sure I was satisfied. Every other time I’ve had sex, the guy just falls asleep after he comes, without bothering to see if I’m okay.”

Sans’ hand moves from your cheek to behind your head, and you feel his teeth press against your forehead. You hum happily at the sensation. “But you, Sans. Oh my god. Talk about being a gentleman.”

“Anything for my verte- _bae.”_ You kick his foot under the blanket and he laughs. It’s silent for a few moments, but eventually you speak up again.

“Thanks, bone boy. For everything.”

You feel his hand at your back, drawing you closer to him. “No problem, sweetheart.”

Before another five minutes pass, you’re fast asleep, drifting away to dreams filled with bad puns and bones.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's over. 
> 
> Might take a few days for the next chapter. I know where the rest of this arc is headed but I need to map out the chapters to get there, haha. For timeline purposes, this arc goes through the holiday season. It may be January, but there WILL be a Christmas chapter, goddammit!
> 
> See you guys when I manage to get my ass in gear and write again!


	17. Aftershock

The morning light filters in through the blinds on the windows, rousing you from your deep sleep. Feeling comes to you slowly as you start to shift around. There’s a comforting ache in your thighs, and you smile when you remember last night’s events.

  
You try to stretch, but find yourself unable to move very far. Opening your eyes, you see that, in his sleep, Sans has managed to wind his arms around yours, hugging close. He’s snoring softly, air wheezing out between the gaps in his teeth. He looks so peaceful and content; you would hate to wake him. But as the novelty of waking up in your boyfriend’s arms starts to wear off, you become aware of the sticky feeling between your legs. You never cleaned yourself up after last night, whoops. You glance towards the shower, knowing that you’ll have to use it before you leave.

  
Slowly, carefully, you extricate yourself from Sans’ arms. It’s a delicate process; you have to lift one arm gently as you slide out from your spot next to him. After you set it back down on the now empty spot, he stirs a little bit. You freeze, wondering if he’s going to wake up. But he just sighs in his sleep and moves closer to your side of the bed. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you go into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

  
The warm water is a welcome sensation. The sheets on the bed are good enough at holding in heat, but you fell asleep naked last night. You’re a little chilly. You let your skin warm up for a few minutes before you shampoo your hair. As you massage your scalp, your thoughts drift back to last night. You’ve never had such a comforting, erotic night in your entire life. Sans was absolutely perfect. He did everything right.

  
Before you know it the shower water starts to run cold, so you finish up and hop out, drying yourself off quickly with a towel. You head back into the bedroom (Sans is still asleep) and are rummaging through your bag when you hear the front door open. Luckily, the bedroom door is still locked. That would be awkward. But a lock can’t stop Papyrus’ voice from extinguishing all silence in the cabin.

  
“! Sans! Where are you? Get up you lazybones!”

  
You wince when your ears are suddenly besieged with noise, but that’s nothing compared to Sans’ reaction. His eyes pop open, and he jumps, looking around like he’s in a panic. You’re about to say something to calm him down when he locks eyes with you, his eyes open wide and terrified. As he focuses on you, his breathing calms down and his expression relaxes.

  
What was that about? You resolve to interrogate Sans later, instead tripping over the corner of the bed to find clothes to put on so you can open the door. You pull up a pair of jeans as you’re walking bed to it, and you open it, finding Papyrus standing just outside.

  
“Morning, Pap!” you say. Behind you, Sans says the same. Before he can ask why you and Sans shared a room last night, you provide an explanation. “Sans and I decided to have a sleepover last night, too.”

  
Sans comes up behind you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “Sure. A _sleepover_.”

  
You elbow him in the rib, but Papyrus doesn’t seem to notice anything is wrong.  
“What time is it?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation away from something potentially dangerous. You could check your phone, but it’s still in your coat.

  
“Almost ten!” Papyrus exclaims. “I am surprised, ! You never sleep in so late! Sans must be a bad influence on you.”

  
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is,” Sans murmurs in your ear as Papyrus walks away. You turn to glare at him and he winks.

  
Shrugging out of his hold, you begin picking up your clothes. “We need to pack. Check-out is at 11 and I need to drop off the keys by then.”

  
What follows next is a mad scramble around the cabin to gather up anything that was left lying around. It pays off, because the three of you manage to leave the cabin before 10:45. You make a quick pit-stop to drop off the keys off at the front desk and then you pull out of the lodge to head back to the house.

  
Now that the wedding is over, you allow your mind to focus on other things. Namely, the impending finals week. You’re not excited. You spent most of last week studying, and you know that at this point, you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. And for most of your classes this semester, that’s fine. Your Early United States Government final is a group presentation on the Constitutional Convention, and for ASL you have to give a three-minute speech using only your hands. You’re not worried about either of those. But your Calculus final is on Thursday and if you’re not careful you’ll go into panic mode.

  
At least finals week means the semester’s almost over. You have the week and then the band concert on Friday night. Which reminds you…

  
“You guys aren’t, uh, doing anything Friday night, are you?” You’ve spent so much time focused on the wedding lately that you forgot to mention that the concert’s coming up fast.

  
Sans shifts in the passenger seat, sitting up instead of leaning against the window. “Isn’t that when your concert is?”

  
You nod. “You guys don’t have to come, but if you don't have anything better to do…”

  
“Are you gonna sing that song?” Sans asks. You hesitate for a brief moment before nodding. The next jazz band rehearsal after your movie marathon with Julie, Mr. Gallez approached you, wondering if you’d like to sing Santa Baby for the concert. You agreed, determined to keep Sara’s head from exploding due to her overinflated ego.

  
“Then of course we're gonna make it,” Sans says. “Don’t want to miss _Sansta_ Baby.”

  
You roll your eyes. You wish you never introduced him to Julie. Forget any prejudices she could have had against monsters; it’s worse when your best friend and your boyfriend can team up to torment you.

  
Papyrus finally pipes up from the backseat. “I would LOVE to see you play your trombone.”

  
And it’s settled. Sans and Papyrus are coming to see you, and from what Papyrus tells you, he’s inviting Frisk, Toriel, and Asgore as well. You might end up with quite the fan club.

  
The rest of the drive passes smoothly, and you’re back at the house before you know it. After the luggage is brought back in, you check your phone, noticing you have a new email notification. It’s from Mr. Gallez. Reading over it, you barely resist the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. He scheduled a jazz rehearsal for this afternoon and you completely forgot about. There goes your good mood.

  
You march up to your room to grab your trombone and music, grumbling all the way. On your way out the door, you pass by Sans, who’s sitting on the couch watching TV. Some things never change.  
“I’m heading to the college for a jazz rehearsal,” you say. “Be back in a few hours.”

  
You don’t wait for Sans to react to your statement; by the time you finish talking, you’re halfway out the door. Throwing your things in the back of your car, you drive away, not looking forward to the afternoon ahead.

* * *

  
Three hours later you burst out of the band room like a bat out of hell. What an awful way to spend a Sunday. On top of your shitty rehearsal, you got a text from your mom. She told you not to come home for the holidays because your family is taking a cruise to the Bahamas. _Without_ you. You’d be less pissed if she’d told you before you bought your $300 ticket to fly home, but no. She had to wait until the week before. You stew in your anger the whole drive home, and by the time you pull up to the house you feel like you’re about to explode.

  
You shove open the door and it swings out at full-force, banging against the wall. Sans looks up at you from his seat on the couch, and you can read the confusion in his face.  
“Bad day?”

  
You collapse next to him, feet coming up to rest on the coffee table. “The _worst_.”

  
Before he can get a word in, you go off on a tirade fueled by righteous anger. “I absolutely _hate_ rehearsing stupid Santa Baby! It feels like everyone’s staring at me and every time I mess up Sara snickers at me, which makes me mess up more!” Sans rubs your back in an attempt to soothe your anger.

  
“And then, in the middle of rehearsal, I get a text from my mom telling me not to bother coming home for Christmas because nobody’s gonna be home! They’re taking a cruise down to the Bahamas and they didn’t even tell me.” You slump back into the couch cushions, letting out a big sigh. “Sorry, I’m ranting. I’m just not having a good day.”

  
Sans nods. “I can tell.”

  
You shift to see him better, drawing your legs underneath you. “I’ve just been so tired these past few days, what with the wedding and finals and the concert and everything else.”

  
“Yeah, you’ve really been working yourself to the _bone_ , huh?” You roll your eyes, but nod in agreement anyway. Sans shifts closer, and you lean on his shoulder. “Did, uh, did last night make it worse?”

  
You look up at him, blush evident on your face. “N-no! Last night was spectacular!”  
He smirks down at you. Smug bastard. “So you’re sayin’ you enjoyed your trip to the _bone_ _zone_?”

  
You immediately stand up and start walking away.

  
“Babe!” he cries after your disappearing figure. “Babe, c’mon! Come back!”

  
You peek your head around the corner, glaring at him. “Only if you never use that phrase again.”

  
“What? ‘Bone zone’?”

  
Before he’s done talking, you’re walking through the kitchen toward the backyard. As you grasp the doorknob, about to turn it, you feel arms encircling your waist and the buzz of magic in the air. In the blink of an eye you’re back on the couch. You glare at him. “Not fair.”

  
He shrugs. “It’s called using your resources,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. You relent, your previous bad mood fading from the forefront of your mind. As you let him climb over you and keep you lying down on the couch, you’re acutely aware of your own heart beating fast. And there’s something else you feel, too. A slight pulsing, not so much a heartbeat as an influx and efflux of energy. It takes you a second to realize it’s emanating from Sans. Whatever _it_ is, you chalk it up to magic.

  
As the energy flow hits you again, you let it in, and it washes over you. This raw, undulating energy is definitely from Sans. You feel overwhelmed with emotions that aren’t your own. Content, relaxation, love (you feel flushed when you realize what it is). But in the recesses of the wave, as it begins to contract back towards Sans, you catch something else. Insecurity, anticipation, fear. Either way, this feeling is starting to worry you.

  
“Hey,” you say, pushing up on his chest a little. He pulls back, looking down at you in concern. “I...felt something just now.” At this, Sans furrows his brow, like he’s thinking or concentrating on something. “It was like I could read your emotions. Like, I can tell you’re happy, but I can also see that you're...anxious about something.”

  
He doesn't say anything for a minute, and you’re worried you overstepped your bounds. You sit there, waiting for him to speak, when he finally starts talking.

  
“I think you felt my soul.” He looks right into your eyes, and it feels like he’s staring right through you.

  
“Soul?” you ask, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

  
He closes his eyes for a moment, and slowly opens them. “Be easier to show you.”

  
As you watch, he concentrates, and you can see the blue flare up in his eye. Transfixed, you see a cyan blue heart straight out of a Valentine’s Day card emerge from underneath his shirt. It hovers in front of you, humming with raw power, identical to what you were feeling earlier. Without thinking, you reach out to touch it.

  
Sans’ breath hitches as your finger grazes its surface, and you immediately jump back. “Did that hurt? I'm so sorry, I don’t know why I did that!”

  
He shakes his head, visibly rattled. “Usually, uh, the only person you allow to touch your soul is your…” Here he pauses, looking you right in the eyes again. “Your soulmate. It’s pretty, heh, it’s pretty stimulating.”

  
Oh. _Oh_.

  
You look down, a blush enveloping your face.

  
“It’s okay, you didn't know,” he says. Your head shoots up.

  
“Can I see mine?”

  
Sans looks taken aback, like what came out of your mouth was the opposite of what he expected. And honestly, you didn’t expect to be saying that either. But when you touched his soul, you were nearly overwhelmed with Sans’ feelings for you. You want him to feel the same.

  
When he understands you’re serious he puts a hand on your shoulder. “If this hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.”

  
Having your soul drawn out of you is not a completely unpleasant feeling, you come to realize. It’s more like when the doctor takes your blood pressure than anything else. There’s a squeezing feeling, and then you see it floating in front of your chest, just like Sans’.

  
It’s a deep, dark indigo, not unlike a starless night sky. You reach up to cup it with your hands and look up to gauge Sans’ reaction. He’s staring at your soul like the captain of a ship that’s been traveling through a storm looks at the sun when it comes out from behind the clouds.

  
Your hands shaking slightly, you guide your soul towards him. He looks at you, the question clear in his face. You simply nod, and let go of the soul, watching as he raises a bong finger up to the floating heart. He looks at you one more time for reassurance, and brushes it carefully.

  
You immediately feel a burst of pleasure more intense than anything you’ve ever felt before. It feels like Sans is touching your entire _being_ , who you are, who you were, infiltrating every thought, every memory. You can see now why this is such an intimate act.

  
As quickly as the feeling overtakes you, it’s over, and Sans is staring at you with a dopey smile on his face, your soul still floating by him.

  
“Good?” he asks. You can only nod, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience.

  
Sans’ eye goes back to normal and your souls float back into their respective bodies. You let out a breathy laugh, reflecting on what just happened.

  
“That was certainly something,” you say. Sans only smiles back.

  
“You said you had a stressful day?”

  
You nod. “The worst.”

  
“What do you say we go upstairs so you can...unwind?” You giggle at his phrasing, but you accept. Pulling him off the couch, you dash into the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you.

  
Who needs to study for a calculus final, anyway?


	18. All That Jazz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating from school what is this
> 
> Also you guys finally get to meet Sara for real! My least favorite OC by far.

The day of the concert arrives, and you’re getting dressed in your concert attire when it hits you; you’re done with finals. You were right, the Calculus one was absolute hell, but you’re pretty sure you at least passed it. You’re so thankful that you’re completely finished with math requirements. No more suffering through Taylor series or conic sections. You’re home free.

At least, you will be after the night’s over. Much to the band’s dismay, Mr. Gallez is including Sleigh Ride as part of your concert. You’ve started miming the act of stabbing yourself whenever you have rests. The other trombones think you’re hilarious. Luckily, Mr. Gallez decided to challenge the ensemble this year by having you play Carol of the Bells, too. Much more fun.

You wish Undyne and Alphys could come, but they’re on their honeymoon. You’re not really sure where they went, but Undyne said something about a beach and how she wants to see how her wife’s ‘hot bod’ looks in a bathing suit. Dork.

After you finish pulling on your boots, you walk into the living room, notifying Sans that it’s time to go. Your call time is six o’clock, even though the concert doesn’t start until seven. Sans is dropping you off so that he and Papyrus can take your car there later. As much as Sans loves his motorcycle, Papyrus _doesn’t._ You don’t really blame him.

As he drives to the college, Sans notices that your leg is doing the bouncy thing again. The one it does when you’re nervous.

“You okay, babe?” he asks.

You nod. “Just a little nervous, you know? I keep thinking I’ll mess up.”

He reaches over and pats your knee. “You’ll do great. Just keep your eyes on me.”

As he pulls up to the school, you lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Sans.”

He pops open the trunk for you so you can grab your trombone, and you remind him to get there early so he can have a decent seat. He drives off, and you head into the band room to warm up.

You make a beeline for Julie, who’s standing off to the side by the instrument cabinets. When you reach her, you wave hello and open your case, screwing the halves of the trombone together. After you push in the mouthpiece, you stand back up.

“How was the wedding?” she asks. “Was it cute?”

You nod, smiling. “Alphys and Undyne had a really great time. They’re on their honeymoon right now, actually.”

“Ooh,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “How about you? Did _you_ have a good time?”

Remembering back to Saturday night makes you blush a little. You nod, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand hoping against hope Julie won’t pick up on your little tells.

Of course, Julie is nothing if not perceptive. “You _didn’t,”_ she gasps. Face completely red now, you nod. No use denying the obvious.

She shrieks in delight. “Took you long enough! God, with other guys you’d have hit it by now.”

You wince a little, both at her volume and insinuations, and glance around the room, hoping no one heard her. Luckily, everyone else seems absorbed in their own conversations. Turning back to Julie, you say, “Those other guys weren’t _like_ Sans. They were pushy, and sex just made everything weird. I didn’t want things between Sans and I to _get_ weird.”

Julie nods, pursing her lips like she’s thinking. “You really like him, don’t you? I mean, I knew you liked him, _obviously,_ but you really, really like him.”

Smiling, you look down. “I really, really do.”

There’s silence for a few seconds until Julie pipes up again. “Enough of this mushy stuff. I’m so pumped for Christmas!”

You nod. “I’m staying with the boys this year. My family’s going on a cruise to the Bahamas instead of staying home. My parents are taking off work and everything.”

“And you’re not going?” You shake your head. “Man, that sucks.”

“I think it’ll be fun to stay here though,” you say. “I mean, back home it doesn’t snow. I’ve never really had a white Christmas before.”

Julie nods in recognition. “You live on the West Coast, right? I heard winter’s supposed to be pretty mild there this year.”

The two of you carry on your conversation for a few more minutes, until you hear a loud voice from the other side of the room that cuts through the conversational din like a hot knife through butter. Your eyes narrow. Sara’s here.

“Can you _believe_ how many monsters are in this dinky city?” she says. Your lips curl up in disgust. Not only is she a heinous bitch, but she’s racist against monsters, too.

Sara continues. “I mean, who the fuck are they to just come in and take our jobs like that? I went to one of the coffee places in town and there was a gross gator monster working there. How can freaks like that be allowed to handle food? It’s unsanitary!”

Glancing over in her direction, you see she’s drawing a bit of a crowd. A lot of people are visibly uncomfortable with what she’s saying, but no one’s stopping her from going on her hateful tirade. Cowards.

“And did you _see_ that they hired one of those freaks to work here? It looks like a fish! How does it even walk around up here without flopping around on its side?” She launches into an insulting impression of a fish, and you see red. You know that if Undyne were here, she’d _destroy_ Sara without a second thought.

Guess someone else will have to do it for her.

Wordlessly, you hand your trombone to Julie. She takes one look at your face and knows exactly what's on your mind.

“, come on. It’s not worth it.” But her words bounce off of you as you push your way through to stand face to face with Sara. She trails off and looks at you, waiting for you to say something.

“What is your fucking problem, Sara?” Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing and you can feel pairs upon pairs of eyes on you. You brush off the feeling. You can't afford to be distracted. “Are you really so pathetic that you feel like you need to pick on the most disadvantaged group in society? What’s wrong with being different, anyway?” You take a step closer to her and relish when she flinches. “Just because monsters don’t look like humans doesn’t mean they’re any less deserving of respect.” You voice grows in confidence along with your audience. “They’re not the _enemy._ Have the monsters ever committed mass genocide? Have the monsters spawned two world wars? No. Humans have. So how can you _pretend,”_ here you move up so you're right in her face, staring her dead in the eye, “that you deserve a fraction of the respect you’ve given them?”

As your rant finishes, silence echoes in the band room. After a few seconds, someone starts clapping. A few more join in, and pretty soon you’re receiving applause from half, no, two thirds of the band room. Among the confusion, Julie comes up to you and pulls you away from Sara, who’s staring at the floor like it’s the most interesting thing she’s seen all day.

“Holy biscuits, that was amazing!” Julie says when you’re back over by your instrument cases. “Where did that come from?” You shrug, your fury ebbing and leaving you more exhausted than anything else.

“I couldn't stand her making fun of Undyne like that,” you say. “And that’s just what made me go over there. I just...really hate people who are racist against monsters.” Julie sees the faraway look in your eyes and drops the issue. Your mind drifts back to the night in the alley and your fists clench.

You spend the next half hour going through your warm-up routine, which means that you play the Jurassic Park theme song while Julie and some of her fellow trumpets serenade the rest of the band in a very loud version of Duel of the Fates. Yep. Your ears are going to be very sore by the end of the night.

Mr. Gallez enters the band room and tells everyone in jazz to get ready. He looks pretty worn out, and you can understand why. This is his second concert of the week. Wednesday was the concert for the lower ensembles, and tonight, for the first time, you get to play twice.

As you stand next to Julie, waiting to go onstage, you panic a little bit. What if you mess up the words? You think back to what Sans said, to keep your eyes on him. But what if you can’t find him? You tap the ground with your foot in anticipation.

Finally, Mr. Gallez gestures to the wings, and you walk on with the rest of the band. Unfortunately, you have to sit next to Sara, but she gives you a wide berth. Perfect. Once you’re settled you look out into the crowd, determined to find Sans.

You don’t have to look that far. Sans must have taken your advice to heart, because he’s right there in the front, just a few rows back from the stage. He’s sitting between Papyrus and Frisk, and you see Toriel and Asgore there, too. Letting out a sigh of relief, you wave at them. Frisk signs, wishing you good luck, and you sign a thank you back. You want to keep your eyes on them, but the concert’s about to start, so you sit down, the monsters obscured by the saxophones in front of you.

The cool thing about jazz band is that you don’t need a conductor to start. The drummer clicks her sticks four times, and you launch into the first chart. Just like that, the crowd melts away and it's just you and the music.

All too soon, the song ends, which means it’s time for Santa Baby. You finagle your way up to the front of the band as Mr. Gallez introduces the song. You give an awkward little wave as he introduces you and grab a microphone from the front of the stage. Okay. Deep breaths. Find Sans. He’s winking at you. You can do this. Everything will be fine.

Before you're mentally prepared (as if you’ll ever be), the drummer counts off the song again, and you hear the pick up notes in the bari sax. The saxophones behind you set up your entrance nicely, and you take one last breath before you start to sing.

“Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me,” you sing, internally cringing at the next line. “Been an awful good girl, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight!”

At least the grossest part of the song is over. You can deal with the rest of it. In fact, you’re starting to have a little fun with it. Rather than standing stock still, barely moving, you start to sway back and forth, your voice slowly becoming more confident.

“Think of all the fun I’ve missed, think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed,” you sing, smiling sweetly at Sans. “Next year I could be just as good-” here you send him a wink you _hope_ he interprets as flirty- “if you check off my Christmas list!”

You’re getting really into it now, stepping side to side, swaying, even twirling some of your hair with your finger. When the song ends, you’re almost disappointed. The crowd cheers when Mr. Gallez cuts off the band, and they cheer even louder when he gestures to you. You smile and curtsy, and you can see your monster (and Frisk) audience giving you a standing ovation. You wave to them, and then you’re ushered back to your seat for the last chart. Sara refuses to even glance your way. Perfect.

Now that your main stressor for the evening is over, you barely even register the rest of the concert. After jazz finishes, the other members of the concert ensemble join you on the stage, and you play through Sleigh Ride like it’s nothing. Which, well, it kind of is.

Carol of the Bells goes smoothly, too. You’re thankful the oboist managed to learn his solo in time. In the first few rehearsals listening to him had been painful, but tonight he wasn’t too bad.

When that's done, the concert is over. Mr. Gallez gestures to the band, and you all stand up, accepting the applause the audience lays on you. Out of the corner of your eye you see movement, and when you turn your head to look down by the left side of the stage, your heart melts.

Sans is standing there, a single red rose clasped in his hand. He holds it out, and you push your way past the tuba players to get to him. You don’t care who’s watching as you accept the rose, leaning down to meet Sans in a kiss. Someone behind you (probably Julie) lets loose a wolf-whistle, and you pull away from him, smiling shyly. He waves to you nonchalantly as he makes his way back to his seat and you head back to yours. You walk right past Sara on the way there and she’s staring at you, dumbfounded. You simply grin back at her.

* * *

 

Part of the reason you do music in college even though you’re not a major is all the free food you get after a concert. It’s not _really_ free, but it’s an alumni-sponsored banquet, and you intend to take full advantage of it.

So is Frisk, as it seems. When Toriel’s back is turned, talking with Sans, you seem them grab no less than three cookies and shove them in their mouth simultaneously. They turn around from the scene of their crime and spot you, staring at them. Their eyes go wide, and they sign rapidly at you.

Don't tell Mom!

You simply laugh, and tell them you won't. You were the same way when you were their age. In fact, those cookies look pretty darn good. Why not have some yourself?

Even though you know you’re all planning to head to New Grillby’s in a few minutes, you can’t stop yourself from browsing the extensive collection of treats. You’ve got your eye on a beautiful peanut butter blossom when you hear someone walk up behind you.

“That was a cute little stunt you pulled back there.” Sara.

You wheel around, coming face to face with her. “What do you want?”

She smiles coyly. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to warn you that you’d better clean up your whore act before someone gets hurt.” She relishes in your shell-shocked expression. “I mean, look at what people are willing to do to people who _support_ monsters.” News headlines flash by in the back of your mind. Restaurants defaced, houses broken into, businesses burned down. All belonging to people who publicly proclaim support for monster rights. “Imagine what could happen to someone who’s _fucking_ one.”

Before you can respond, Sara waltzes away and you’re left standing there by the cookies. You don’t even notice Sans walking up to you until he taps you on the shoulder.

“You okay, babe?”

Shaken out of your thoughts, you nod, smiling at him. Sara’s words were just an empty threat, right? No need to bother Sans about it. He’s worried about you enough as it is. You take his hand, and the two of you walk over to join the rest of the group.

At dinner, you do your best to appear as if everything is normal, laughing at Sans’ jokes and discussing plans for Christmas. But underneath it all, there’s a pervasive layer of fear. Even if Sara’s words are just that, words, you’re still worried about what might happen.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ominous music plays in the background*
> 
> The next two or so chapters will be devoted to that holiday of American consumerism (Christmas) and then arc 3 will commence! I'm super pumped for it. Are you guys pumped for it?


	19. Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg you guys all want to fight Sara I'm laughing
> 
> Please go fight her. I'm begging you. Girl deserves the might of my readers coming down upon her.

Once you’re done with college for the semester, it feels like the days are speeding by. Before you know it, it’s Christmas Eve, and you and the brothers are getting ready to head over to Toriel’s for dinner and a sleepover. You’ve expressed some concerns over how everyone is going to fit, but Sans assures you it’ll be alright, adding a wink for good measure. You’re not really sure how to feel about this.

Carrying an overnight sack and a garbage bag full of presents, you trek through the already thick snow to get to Toriel’s house. The brothers have an unfair advantage over you; they’re used to moving through snow. Consequently, by the time you make it to her porch, they’re both inside, Sans holding open the door to let you in. Once you’re inside, Frisk runs up to you and grabs the bag of presents, spreading them out underneath the already crowded tree. You’ve never seen so many presents in your entire life.

“How was the concert?” comes a small voice behind you. You turn away from the splendor of the tree to see Alphys, wearing a pretty red dress and a ring on her finger.

“I didn't know you guys were back already!” you exclaim, scooping her up in a hug. She laughs nervously and pats your back. You pull back. “How was the honeymoon? Where did you guys go?”

Alphys smiles, and you internally fawn over how adorable she is. “We had a r-really good time! It was so warm in Florida, it was amazing!”

You nod in understanding. “The last time I was there in December it was eighty degrees the whole time. Where’s Undyne?”

Alphys gestures to the kitchen. “She wanted to help Toriel cook.” You hear a crash from the kitchen and Alphys’ face takes on a pained expression. “Emphasis on _wanted._ ”

“We’re cool! Nothing broke!” comes Undyne’s shout from the kitchen. She emerges a few seconds later, and breaks out into a grin when she sees you.

“Long time no see, nerd!” You feel yourself pulled into a crushing embrace. More comforting than it sounds.

You pull away from her after a few seconds. “Alphys was just telling me how great your honeymoon was.”

Undyne smiles and smooches her wife’s head. “All because I had the greatest girl with me!” Alphys blushes and mumbles a protest, but to no avail. Their relationship fills you with happiness.

“So how are you and Sans doing?” Undyne asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Have you _caught the fish_ yet?” Even if the euphemism makes no sense to you, you still understand the gist of it. So does Alphys.

“Undyne, d-don’t be rude!” she chastises.

“But I’m curious!” she whines. Alphyssimply sends her a _look._ Which she ignores, instead turning back to you. “So?”

You let out a sigh. You already told Julie, who cares who else knows?

When you nod, Undyne lets out a whoop of celebration. You and Alphys immediately shush her in case someone’s listening.

“It was the night of the wedding,” you say. And the next night. And...well. You’re not going to go into any more detail than you already have.

“HA! Glad somebody else got some that night!” Undyne says, shooting a saucy wink to Alphys, whose scales turn bright pink.

“U-Undyne!” she stammers, clearly mortified. Undyne just laughs and gives her a little smooch.

You stand around and visit for a few minutes until Toriel emerges from the kitchen, a bright smile on her face.

“Dinner is served!”

* * *

 

No matter who you’re with, Christmas dinner is always magical. There’s a feeling that permeates through the air, one of contentment and warmth. Toriel has made a ham, and it smells absolutely divine. As plates are passed around, you can’t help but inhale the scent. It makes your mouth water.

The ham tastes just as good as it smells, if not even better. It’s plain that everyone else agrees, because for a few moments there is no sound save the chewing noises. Frisk, on your right, offers you a dinner roll and you snatch it up, pulling it apart and spreading butter all over it.

Eventually, you feel yourself getting full. You stop eating, already starting to regret that second piece of ham. The others are finishing, too, and soon Frisk is asking to open presents. Papyrus joins in, and you smile. You and your brother were just like that when you were younger.

Toriel is forced to give in; no one could say no to a face as cute as Frisk’s. “Alright, everyone may open _one_ present tonight. We will save the rest for tomorrow.”

Pumping the air in success, Frisk dashes out to the tree, Papyrus closely following. You take their plates into the kitchen, along with yours. When you walk through the dining room to get to the living room, Sans wraps an arm around your waist, and you lean into him as you walk over to the couch and take a seat. This all feels very domestic.

Papyrus and Frisk have given themselves the task of finding one present for each person and distribute the gifts. You smile when you see the one Papyrus has chosen is from you. In your opinion, it’s the perfect present.

Looking at the one you’ve been handed, you see it’s from Asgore. You send him a gentle smile, which he returns. When everyone has their gifts, it’s decided that Undyne will start, and it’ll go clockwise from there. Her gift, ironically, is from Alphys.

“Scale cleaner! Aw, thanks babe!” she exclaims, kissing her again. Sans shoots you a glance, and you both giggle. What a perfect gift.

Papyrus is next, and you can’t keep the smile off your face as he rips off the packaging.

“WOWIE! A new action figure!”

“Look who it is, Pap!”

It’s Jack Skellington, and when Papyrus realizes this, he rushes over and scoops you up in a tight bear hug. He thanks you over and over again, and you pat his back, telling him you knew he would like it. He keeps talking about how wonderful it is for the next few minutes until Frisk interrupts him, signing that it’s their turn to open a gift.

They receive a knit, striped sweater from Toriel, and immediately slip it on, messing up their hair. They sign a thank you to their mom, and make a ‘bleh’ face when she kisses them on the head.

Toriel’s gift is from Sans, and surprise surprise, it’s a joke book. When she reads the title she laughs out loud, and shoots Sans a look of gratitude. He shrugs, lifting his shoulders.

Asgore is next, and his gift is pretty simple, but touching. It’s a picture that Frisk drew. You lean over to look at it, and you see a field of yellow flowers, each one painstakingly drawn out. You look up to se the former king’s expression, and he looks so touched by the gift. It warms your heart.

Laughter abounds when Sans opens his gift from Toriel...only to find that it’s a copy of the exact same joke book she’s just opened from him. You ask the two of them if they planned this, but both seem genuinely surprised.

“It’s YOUR turn, !” Papyrus exclaims. You pick up the gift that was set in front of you earlier. The label says it’s from Asgore, and you turn to smile at him before removing the wrapping paper. Inside, you find some teabags. You smile at Asgore again and thank him. You’ve always wanted to try new types of tea.

Alphys is last, and she unwraps an anime DVD from Papyrus that appears to be about, well, cooking. She blushes and thanks him, and with that, the night’s gift-giving session is over.

However, that doesn’t mean the party is. Once the wrapping paper is cleared away, Frisk shoots up from where they’re sitting and goes up to the TV, messing around with the controls and settings until you see a familiar logo appear on the screen and a wheel is pressed into your hands.

Aw yiss. You’re the freaking _champion_ of Mario Kart.

The controllers end up with you, Frisk, Papyrus, and Undyne. You ask Sans if he’d want to switch off with you, but he simply shrugs, saying “I think I’d get too _tired_ out.” Papyrus insists that Sans not be allowed to play. Frisk picks a course (Yoshi Falls, the noobiest of all races) and the four of you immediately go into try-hard mode.

As good as Undyne might be at fighting and training in real life, she can’t match your skills in Mario Kart. She can do nothing but watch as you speed past her after she bumps into a bridge.

“NGAHHH!” she screams, the presence of Frisk probably the only thing keeping her from swearing like a sailor. “Why can’t I beat you?”

You shrug, waiting for Frisk to pick the next track. “What I lack in physical strength I make up for in being super awesome at video games.”

A few hours later, the novelty of almost always winning (Rainbow Road can go die in a hole) wears off, and everybody is starting to get tired. Frisk and Papyrus head upstairs first (Papyrus is sharing their room for the night) and Sans goes with them to read a story. You stay downstairs, sipping a mug of hot chocolate and watching Undyne and Alphys act adorable together. The combination of the holiday hubbub and the warm drink is starting to take its toll on you, and by the time Sans gets back downstairs, you’re ready to head to bed.

“Goodnight everyone,” you say as Sans leads you upstairs to the guest bedroom you’re apparently sharing. They echo your words as the two of you head into the bedroom, Sans pulling the door shut behind you.

You’re so tired, you can barely go through the motions of changing into your pajamas. Once you finish, you flop down onto the bed, your mind already shutting down.

* * *

 

You know something’s wrong the second you wake up. It’s still dark outside, and you can’t help but feel that something isn’t right. Looking down next to you, your suspicions are confirmed.

Sans is having a nightmare. You watch him thrash back and forth (he must have woken you up), sweat beading down his skull.

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm. “Sans?” you whisper, trying not to wake anyone else up. “Sans, wake up. It’s just a bad dream.” He doesn’t show any signs of waking, so you shake his arm a little harder, using your other hand to brush at his skull.

Finally, the contact wakes him up, and he sits bolt upright, eye sockets wide. You recognize this look. It’s the same face he wore when Papyrus woke him up at the cabin.

“Sans, are you okay?” you say seriously, rubbing his arm in a comforting motion.

“Y-yeah, babe,” he says, trying to put on a cheerful air. “I’m fine.”

You don’t buy into his act. Instead, you shift around until you’re sitting with your legs crossed, facing him. “Sans, please,” you say, looking him right in the eyes. “This isn’t the first time you’re acted like this. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”

He shakes his head, looking almost...scared? “‘s just a nightmare, babe. No big deal.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you talk about it,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Sans sighs, and looks down at the blanket. “...It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

Shaking your head, you grab his bony hand in your own. “Sans. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

He looks around the room, anywhere but at you, until finally he meets your eyes and nods. “Okay. Here goes nothing, I guess. It all started the day Frisk fell into the underground…”

* * *

 

It feels like years have passed by the time Sans finishes his story of the hundreds upon hundreds of timelines he was put through. You’re thoroughly shocked. All this time, Sans was holding such a deep pain inside him?

“So when Papyrus woke you up that day-”

“I thought I was back in Snowdin,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Every reset always started the same way. Paps waking me up, calling me a ‘lazybones’.” He’s fully sitting up now, and he pulls you close to him. “I thought...I thought that I lost everything. That I lost _you.”_ A tear welling up in your eye, you pull him into a full hug, your chin over his shoulder.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you say. He lets out a chuckle that turns into a sob. You quickly pull back and are met with his tearstained face. “Sans, please, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He looks up at you as you wipe a tear from under his eye socket. “I will never leave you alone.”

It takes him a while to fully calm down, and when you finally fall asleep again, you’re wrapped up in his arms. He’s holding you so tight you think he might never let you go.

And you wouldn’t complain if he didn’t.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahhahhahaa who likes pain and suffering?
> 
> I do!!
> 
> Next chapter is the holidays part 2, and after that who knows? I have a vague idea, but we'll see what actually happens.


	20. Gifts Come in Different Packages*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not wake up this morning expecting to churn out a whole chapter, but here we are! 
> 
> Also: there be sinning ahead!

You’re slow to wake up the next morning, both your mind and body desperately trying to go back to sleep. As your body (regretfully) regains consciousness, you are made aware of noises floating up from downstairs. Sounds like someone’s in the kitchen. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, you can see that it’s past 10:30. Strange; you would think Papyrus would have tried to get you two up and at ‘em by now. Not that you’re complaining. You’ve always hated being forced awake. 

Realizing that you need to use the bathroom, you try to get up...only to see that you’re held fast, Sans’ arms wrapping you in a bear hug from behind. His face is buried in your hair. You would think it’s adorable, but the need to pee is growing by the second. There is only one thing to do.

“Sans?” you whisper, reaching behind you to lightly shake his shoulder. He groans in his sleep and tightens his grip on you. Gritting your teeth, you try again.

“Sans, sweetie, come on, time to get up.” You’re talking louder now, actively pushing into his shoulder. Still nothing. There’s only one thing left to do. You manage to turn so you’re facing him, and you angle your head down to nibble at his collarbone. 

His eye sockets flick open, and he lets out a low groan that, if you’re being honest, sounds a lot more like a growl. Wow. Um. That’s a little attractive. He looks down to find you, and his eye sockets narrow.

“What’re you doin’ there, babe?” His voice is husky and clouded from sleep and oh man if that doesn’t send shivers down your spine like nothing else. 

But you can’t allow yourself to be distracted right now. You’re on a mission. “I need to pee, but you won’t let go of me,” you complain, pushing on his arm to make your point. “Plus it’s almost eleven. We need to get up.”

“Can’t we just...stay here?” 

You shake your head. “Not unless you want Pap or Frisk to come bursting in here to drag us downstairs.”

He relents, releasing his hold on you. Free at last, you make a mad dash for the bathroom. After you relieve yourself, you quickly wash your face and brush your hair. No need to get dressed yet; it’s Christmas. If there was ever a day to be lazy, it would be today. Heading back into the bedroom, you find Sans awake, surprisingly. 

“Coming downstairs?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe. He gets up and comes over to stand right in front of you.

“What’ll you give me if I do?” God, why does his voice  _ do  _ that to you? If you’re being honest with yourself, you want nothing more than to stay upstairs and lie in bed with him (among other things) for the rest of the day, but then he would win. And you can’t have that.

Instead, you smile sweetly, and tilt your head to the side. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” As you turn around to go downstairs, you feel his hand cup your face and pull you in for a deep kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. You can’t stop the moan that escapes, and you feel his mouth curl into a smile. Dammit.

He pulls back, eyes crinkling with mischief, but before he can say something, you rush downstairs. You are  _ not  _ letting him off that easy. 

“Good morning, !” Toriel says when you head into the kitchen, where the most  _ delectable  _ smell is coming from. You see Toriel at the stove, attending to what appears to be French toast. Behind her, Undyne and Papyrus are making the dipping mixture. Hopefully together they won’t ruin anything. Toriel seems to be keeping a watchful eye on them, however. It should be okay. 

Before you can say hi to anyone, Frisk comes skidding into the kitchen, signing rapidly. You tell them to slow down a little, so they do, and you catch what they’re trying to say.

Merry Christmas! Santa came last night and he left you some presents!

“Did he now?” you ask. Frisk nods and grabs you by the hand, taking you into the living room. Asgore is there, and you smile at him as Frisk grabs a gift from in front of the fireplace and shoves it into your hands. 

Open it!

“You got it, sweetie,” you say, tearing at the wrapping paper. Out falls a couple of gift cards (iTunes and Target, nice!) and a bundled up T-shirt. You go to unfold it, and when you can see it, you gasp out loud.

There’s a picture of a trombone on it, with the caption ‘Wanna  _ trombone _ ?’ In a panic, you bunch it back up, hoping Frisk didn’t notice. You look up at them, but they’re too busy looking through the presents left under the tree. 

Making a mental note to ask Sans if he’s the one responsible for your lovely gift, you place it off to the side next to your tea from last night. Toriel announces that breakfast is ready, and you head into the living room, your nose guided by that heavenly scent. 

After breakfast is finished, there is a hustle into the living room, where Frisk and Papyrus have tirelessly sorted the presents by receiver. You all sit in the same circle as you had last night, and the cycle continues, everyone opening one present before the next person gets a chance to. 

You’re pleasantly surprised with your gifts. Papyrus splurged and got you a shirt with a picture of spaghetti on it. Alphys and Undyne went in together on a really nice pair of earrings that have bones dangling from them. Toriel knitted you a scarf, and when you put it on, the warmth surprises you. You can tell that Frisk worked very hard on their gift to you; it’s a painting of the night sky, the moon illuminated in the water.

“This is so nice, Frisk!” you say. “Thank you so much!” They can do nothing but grin back at you.

Right before you open your last present, Sans opens his last one, from you. You really hope he likes it; you had to save up for a whole month to buy it. Nicole was nice enough to pay you extra for the shifts you took during Thanksgiving weekend. 

As he tears off the wrapping paper, you’re intimately aware of the beating of your own heart. You pray to every deity you know of that he likes it. 

At first he’s just staring at it, not moving not making a sound. Your heartbeat gets louder and louder, until you’re almost certain everyone in the room can hear it. Ba- _ dum.  _ Ba- _ dum.  _ Ba- _ dum. _

Finally, he speaks up.

“B-babe,” he says, his voice cracking a little. “How did you get this?”

“Do you like it?” you say, hardly above a whisper. 

His response is to pull you into a crushing hug, almost knocking the wind out of you. 

“I love it,” he says into your ear. “It’s perfect.”

You wish you could stay here forever, wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms. His embrace is so comforting and even warmer than your new scarf. But eventually you hear a small cough, and you and Sans pull apart, both blushing. 

“The next time we go see the northern lights, you should bring it,” you say, gesturing to your boyfriend’s new telescope. 

He nods, and gestures to your final present. Of course, it’s the one from Sans. You pick it up; it’s pretty small, only about the size of your palm. Unwrapping it, you find a small box from a jeweler in town. You look at him, shocked. You know this place costs a  _ fortune.  _ He simply gestures for you to open it. 

Inside is a silver chain, so impossibly thin. It leads into a teardrop-shaped gem, the same color as Sans’ magic. Wordlessly, you pick it up, examining it more closely. It’s absolutely  _ perfect,  _ not a facet out of place. You pick at the clasp, and once it’s open you place it around your neck, the stone sparkling like it’s in its rightful place. The light pressure at the top of your chest is so welcome, so perfect. 

In lieu of a spoken thank you, you simply lean into Sans, your fingers lacing through his. He turns his head to press his teeth to your cheek, and you see Frisk sticking out their tongue in a ‘bleh’ face. It makes you smile.

The rest of the holiday at Toriel’s house processes in a calm fashion. You introduce the monsters to  _ It’s A Wonderful Life,  _ the movie you watch with your family every year on Christmas. You have to explain a few of the cultural references as best you can (it’s not like you lived through the 1940s), and everyone winces a little when Mr. Gower boxes George’s ear, but other than that, everyone enjoys the movie. Before you know it, dinner has been eaten and Toriel is pushing for Frisk’s bedtime. Undyne invites Papyrus over for the night to try out her new workout equipment, and he agrees wholeheartedly. As everyone starts to head out and you’re stuffing your presents into your bag, you feel Sans’ presence behind you. 

“What’s up?” you ask, standing up and taking your haul with you. 

“Wanna tell me what my reward is?” His hot breath on your ear brings your mind back to the morning, teasing him and running downstairs before you succumbed to your inner wishes. You realize that, just like the night of the wedding, Papyrus won’t be around.

Maybe your Christmas isn’t over yet.

You turn to him, fighting to keep the flush off of your face. “Let’s get home and you can find out.”

The two of you are barely out the front door when Sans grabs your waist and you teleport right into your bedroom, the force of the move causing you to fall over onto the bed. Your mind a little dizzy from the sudden change of atmosphere, you barely register Sans pulling off your coat. When you readjust to reality, you help him out, the room suddenly too warm, the space between you and him too great.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he grunts as he pulls your shirt over your head. You nod distractedly, working on getting Sans’ pants off. “Ever since you woke me up this morning.”

The thought makes you grin. If you wanted to, you could make Sans putty in your hands with little more than your mouth. 

You finally manage to pull down Sans’ pants and celebrate by pulling forward on his femurs, causing him to fall onto the bed next to you. Giggling at the ‘oomph’ he lets out, you push off his jacket and tug at the bottom of his shirt. He helps you, raising his arms so you can slide it off. 

His full torso exposed, you get to work. Remembering the sounds he made this morning, you go straight for his collar, licking and sucking at the bone jutting out.

“H-heh,” he says, practically panting. “Pretty good reward.”

You hum in agreement, the vibration against his first rib causing him to gasp. Gently, you take it in between your teeth, your hand coming up to tease at the base of his sternum. The combination of your teeth moving back and forth and the new pressure from your fingers causes him to thrust his hips forward, knocking into yours. The feeling is less than pleasant, and you pull back from him, hissing a little.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” he whispers breathily. 

You shake your head. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going. Sans takes over now, one bony hand massaging your breast as the other moves to slide off your pants. When they bunch around your knees you kick them off, and now the only barrier between you and Sans is your underwear. 

It doesn’t last very long. Slowly, achingly slowly, Sans pulls them down and off. The cold air of the room hits your exposed area, and you shiver a little. 

“Need me to warm you up?” There is it, there’s that voice that nearly drove you insane earlier. You nod, bucking up into Sans’ hand. He chuckles and you resist the urge to elbow him. You’re too far gone by this point.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he says, his finger swirling aimlessly, pointedly avoiding the one place you need the pressure. “All day today I was lookin’ for any excuse to take you upstairs and  _ bone  _ ya.” The way his voice changes on the word ‘bone’ causes you to look up in realization.

“So you  _ were  _ the one who gave me that shirt!”

He nods, and you’re about to celebrate your excellent detective abilities when all of a sudden his finger brushes your clit and you let out an ‘oh!’ of both surprise and pleasure, forgetting everything else for a moment. Your fists clench around the sheets and your eyelids flutter shut as he continues his ministrations. He stops for a moment and you relax for a second, only to have your senses catapulted into oblivion. Opening your eyes, you see his skull between your legs, and suddenly you realize. He’s using his  _ tongue.  _

“Holy  _ fuck _ ,” you mutter as his tongue swirls around your entrance. “ _ Sans.” _

“Mmhmm?” His head pops up, and he smirks at you. “Need somethin’, babe?”

You nod, barely holding it together. “Need you.”

And you thought he was smug before. Carefully, he props your hips up and pushes in, slowly, gently. The feeling alone almost pushes you over the edge. Instead, you let out a moan, grabbing for Sans’ hand.

“Shh, it’s okay , I got you.” Sans hold your hand tightly as he slides in and out. “Just let go. I got you.” 

And you  _ do.  _ You let go, and it feels like the world is crumbling around you, like the bed, the room, everything is falling away, leaving only you and Sans behind. You feel like you’re floating and falling and flying all at the same time.

You’re so caught up in your own bliss that you don’t notice Sans releasing until he collapses on the bed next to you.

“ _ Fuck,”  _ he whispers emphatically. “I love you, . I love you so goddamn much.”

At these words your heart leaps and it feels like your soul is about to jump right out of your chest. 

“I love you too,” you whisper, holding Sans close as you drift off into blissful slumber.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes arc 2! Which means we're approaching my favorite part of the story! I am so excited you guys, you have no idea. 
> 
> All I'm gonna say is: y'all better be ready cuz the next chapter's bringing the heat!


	21. Out of the Frying Pan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man things are about to get really heated.
> 
> hope you guys have a blast with this new chapter!

The worst part of Christmas being over is going back to your job. When the 27th rolls around you drag yourself out of bed with a grimace on your face. Not only do you have work today, but you have it in the  _ morning.  _ You pull on some random clothes from your closet and go through your morning routine, the scowl never leaving your face. 

Papyrus and Sans are both still asleep, so you leave a note on the kitchen table after you gulp down a breakfast of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. You told Sans (okay you complained) about your early shift last night, but it never hurts to be too careful. 

You’re already running a little late, so you end up having to drive your car to work. Parking in the lot on the other side of New Grillby’s, you jog in, barely making it on time. 

“Mornin’, ,” Nicole says, not even looking up from the espresso machine she’s plugging in. “Can you wipe down the counters before we open?”

You nod, and get to work. The shop doesn’t open for another half hour, and you spend that time getting ready to open, setting up the display counter to entice the customers, and making sure the bathrooms aren’t disgusting. Since it’s a weekday, it won't be too busy, so it’s just you and Nicole for the first few hours. 

The first customers come in about ten minutes after opening, and Nicole sends you to handle making the drinks as she works the register. You prefer that, anyway. It’s easy to get into a rhythm. Pump the syrup, pour in the shots, add ice if necessary. Add whipped cream and a topping. Serve with a smile. Repeat. 

The customers are pretty sporadic today, so you have five, ten minute stretches where it’s just you and Nicole in the shop. With nothing better to do, you poke around at the display, making sure the most delectable treats are featured on the top row. Sometimes you talk to Nicole, but she’s not much for conversation. She’d rather focus on the job. 

At ten, Catty comes in, bringing with her a fresh wave of customers. She joins you behind the counter making drinks, while Nicole speeds through the now busy line with a precision and grace you could never hope to match. 

Eventually, the canisters of whipped cream behind the counter start to run low. You tell Catty to keep making drinks while you take one back to refill it. 

The walk-in fridge in the back of the cafe is right next to the office, so while the machine refills the canister of whipped cream, you poke around a little. Nicole never said you couldn’t go in there, and you’re curious. You’ve only been in the office a few times.

It’s kind of messy, which surprises you a little. With what you know of Nicole, she doesn’t peg you as the type to have a disorganized workspace. Not everyone’s perfect, you suppose. Glancing over the cluttered desk, a loose slip of paper catches your eye. It’s wrinkled, like it was crumpled up and later straightened back out. Quickly glancing back to see if anyone’s watching, you reach forward and snatch it up. Smoothing it out, you’re shocked by what you see. 

It’s a note written in what looks to be a thick black pen, and the handwriting is messy, but you can still make out the words: **_You will REGRET hiring monsters to work here!_**

Shaking slightly, you set the paper back down on the desk. When did this get here? Why didn’t Nicole tell you about it? Do Bratty and Catty know? They could be in danger!

Your mind reeling from all your new questions, you barely register the door to the cafe slamming open. You don’t pick out the incessant jangling of the doorbell as the customers rush out in droves. And you certainly don’t register Nicole screaming “ _ Watch out!”  _

You don’t register anything until you hear the breaking of glass and the sudden roar and heat of a flame that is much too real, much too close. It’s coming from the other side of the wall next to you, and as you drop the note, the air shimmers with the sudden rise in temperature. You watch, mesmerized, as the wall turns brown, then black, then orange as the fire cuts through the wall, flames licking up the side as you stand there, frozen by the beauty of the fire. 

“!  _ Where are you?! _ ” comes Nicole’s panicked voice. You’ve never heard her so scared in your entire life, and it breaks you out of your trance. You rush out of the office only to be met with a wall of flames, blocking your exit to the door. Nicole and Catty are standing on the other side of the counter, looking with horror back at you. 

“Check the back door!” Nicole suggests. You nod, dashing beyond the fridge to the reinforced metal door that leads outside. No luck. The door won’t turn. An image flashes through your mind of the key hanging on the office wall. The wall that is now completely enveloped in flame. 

Your brief hope shattered, you rush back into the hallway, where the fire is slowly creeping towards you. “It’s locked!”

“ _ Fuck!”  _ Nicole screams. “Just stay there! I called the fire department, they should get you out.”

You nod, unable to see another way out. Your co-workers dash outside, and you’re alone with the sinister crackling of the fire. Backing yourself against the door, you slide down, putting your head in your hands. The heat is making it hard to think, but there is one constant though running through your mind. You could die here. This might be your last day on Earth. And there’s nothing you can do about it but sit there and wait. 

Pulling out your phone, you consider calling Sans and...you don’t know. What are you supposed to say, knowing that it would be the last time you speak to him? Maybe it’s better if you don’t call him. In case you make it out. You don’t want him to worry. 

Before you can make a decision either way, you feel your concentration slipping. Shit, that’s right. Fire sucks up all the oxygen in the air. You feel yourself growing tired, and fight to stay awake. Maybe...maybe you can punch out a window or something. You pull yourself up with the door handle, swaying slightly. Taking in a breath, you inhale smoke, and you cough. Right. That’s something else fires do. 

Leaning against the wall for support, you make your way over to the window. It’s not big enough to crawl out of, but if you can break it open, you can at least buy yourself a little more time. You start hurling yourself against the glass, hoping against hope it’ll give, but nothing happens. The glass holds strong, mocking you with its cleanliness. Turning around, you wonder if you can chance running through the flames, but you wind up with smoke in your face, smoke in your eyes, smoke in your throat. You can’t see, you can’t breathe. Coughing, you fall back down to the ground, desperate to hold onto any clean air left in the back of the cafe. 

As you lie curled up on the floor, vision going blurry around the edges, you swear you hear the front door jangling open. But that’s impossible. Surely everything is ashes and dust. Ashes and dust and fire. The fire is coming closer, it’s coming to say hello. Everything is so warm, you just want to fall asleep. A blanket wraps around you, a blanket of fire and flame. You’re cradled in the warm, comforting embrace of the fire, and you feel your soul at ease. 

Then you fall asleep.

* * *

 

“....but she’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes. We need to keep her overnight to be safe, but there won’t be any lasting damages. She wasn’t exposed to the fire very long. She’s very lucky.”

There’s the sound of footsteps receding, and the slow, even beep of a monitor. Still groggy, you open your eyes. 

You’re in a hospital room, if the bright lights and white walls are any indication. There’s a window to your right, and you can see some downtown buildings you recognize. Glancing down you see that you’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and there’s a heart rate monitor attached to your index finger. Ah. That’s why you hear beeping. The TV is on in the corner, and you feel a slight pressure on your leg. Your eyes gravitate downward until they find the source, perched on the edge of your bed, a hand on your leg and eye sockets trained on the television. 

“Sans?” Upon hearing your voice he jerks around, a mixture of worry and relief evident in his expression. 

“Hey,” he says softly, placing his bony hand on yours. “How d’you feel?”

You ponder that question. How do you feel? Fine, you suppose. The last thing you remember was being trapped in the burning cafe, and since your skin doesn't feel burned, you think you’re pretty okay. But that raises another question. 

“I’m fine,” you say. “But how did I get out of there? Did the firemen arrive in time…?” You trail off when you see Sans shaking his head. 

“Your, uh, your manager came next door to New Grillby’s soon as she was out of the cafe. Told Grillbz what was goin’ on, and he went over to get you out of there. He kept the flames off of you as he carried you out.” After he finishes talking, the silence hangs in the air. So  _ that’s  _ why you felt like you were being cradled by the fire before you fell unconscious. You were, just not in the way you were thinking. Just thinking back to how you felt is disconcerting. You’re almost positive you would have died had Grillby not come so fast. 

“Tell him thank you,” you say. 

Sans chuckles a little. “I already have. A million times. He had to stop me when I told him I’d pay off my tab.” You smile with him, but then his gaze drops to something darker. “All joking aside. We’re gonna find the people who did it, and they’re gonna  _ pay.”  _ His eye flashes on the word ‘pay’, and you feel a deep sense of foreboding. 

“What happened?” you ask. “I was in the office, and all of a sudden there was fire everywhere.”

His hand shifts to smooth the hair back from your face. “I overheard your manager talking to the police. She said a guy walked in there with a flaming bottle of alcohol. He waited for most of the customers to clear out before he threw it. At Catty.”

You sit up straight. Sans’ hand falls from your face.  “Is she okay?”

He nods. “The guy missed. Hit the wall instead. And, well, you know the rest. Whole damn place went up in flames.”

“Do you think they’ll catch him?” It makes you sick to your stomach that an arsonist, an attempted  _ murderer,  _ could still be out there. “Will there be an investigation?”

“Mmhmm. Probably helped that the owner of the joint was a human. And had humans working there.” His face twists into a scowl and you can’t help but empathize. You know the cops are spotty when it comes to crimes against monsterkind. “You don’t have to worry, babe. We’ll get him.”

You narrow your eyes. “You mean the  _ police  _ will get him.” He looks at you sheepishly, like he knows he’s been caught. 

“I just can’t  _ stand  _ that you got hurt,” he says. “If I find him before the cops do, they won't be able to find all the pieces of his miserable little body.”

Sans’ magic is flaring again, his fists balling up. You move to place a hand on his, and he relaxes, looking back at you. 

“You can’t forgo the law,” you say. “The police will catch him. It’s only a matter of time.”

He nods distractedly. As you sit in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation suddenly dawns on you. 

“I don’t have a job,” you say incredulously. “Oh my god, I’m out of a job!”

Sans just looks at you. “You nearly died today, and you’re worried about your job?” He shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else, babe.”

“Sorry for being a little concerned by my sudden unemployment!” you say. Sans holds up his hands in a placating gesture. 

“Nah, I get it. You like structure. You’re not a lazybones like me.” His expressions shifts again. “Maybe it’s for the best. You should probably stay home for a while.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, like house arrest? What about when school starts up again? I’m going to have to leave the house eventually, Sans. Might as well be for a job.”

He sighs. “Can we talk about this later? I just spent the last few hours scared out of my skull that you wouldn’t wake up, and now you’re back.”

You take pity on him, leaning forward to kiss him on the spot right above where his nose would be if he had one. “Okay.”

The display of physical affection seems to resonate within Sans. You see a tear fall as he leans forward, wrapping you in a hug so tight it feels like he’ll never let you go. 

“I was so scared,” he half-sobs into your shoulder. “Babe, when Grillbz called me and told me you were in the hospital, I...I almost lost it. I thought that this was it. That you were gone for good.”

You can do nothing but provide a shoulder to cry on and a comforting hand at the base of his neck. “It’s okay, Sans,” you say, rubbing circles at the top of his vertebrae. “I’m here, I’m fine.”

The two of you sit there for a while, not talking, just holding each other, thankful you’re both still alive. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally no regrets whatsoever
> 
> I have known this was gonna happen for AGES and to finally write it was something else. 
> 
> And I ALMOST cut the chapter right after Reader fell unconscious. Wouldn't that have just been the absolute worst? You guys would have absolutely HATED me.
> 
> Please, please share your reactions with me below. I feed off of your rage ;)


	22. The Punundrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, this chapter took a little while to puzzle through.
> 
> Like, 90% of the time I had the doc open was me staring at the screen trying to figure out how to express my thoughts. 
> 
> But I did it! We're all good!

The nurses kick Sans out after visiting hours are over, and you spend the night alone in your room. It’s not  _ so  _ bad, though. The CNA is nice and promises to get you anything you need. You actually fall asleep pretty easily. Nearly dying is more tiring than you would have originally thought.

After you wake up the next morning, the CNA brings you a nice breakfast of eggs and toast before he takes off from his shift. You can’t imagine having to work nights. Hopefully he gets paid well. 

Visiting hours start at ten, and it’s barely 10:15 when Sans and Papyrus walk in the door. Papyrus is so excited to see you, running to your side immediately.

“I am so happy you’re alright!” he says, tears forming at the corners of his eye sockets. You beam at him before he scoops you up in a big bear hug. “When Sans heard what happened he made me stay home! I was worried sick!”

“Aw, thanks Paps,” you say, rubbing his arm in a soothing motion. “I’m better now, and I can go home!”

He gives a little cheer as he pulls back from you. One of the nurses comes in with your clothes (which smell way too much like smoke for your liking) and after you change, she leads you out into the lobby where you’re discharged. You thank the hospital staff for everything and then you and the brothers leave. In the parking lot, you see that they took Papyrus’ car to get there. You’ve seen it in the garage before, but never in full daylight.

It’s a shiny red convertible, and Papyrus insists on driving it with the top down the whole way home. Which would be fine, if it weren’t December and freezing. By the time you get back to the house, you’re shivering a little. Combine that with the grossness of your clothes, and you want nothing else than to take a nice, long shower. 

So you do. Your smoke-ridden clothes are balled up and tossed into the hamper and you let the hot water run over you as you scrub your body with vanilla-scented body wash, trying with all your might to get rid of that smell. After what feels like eons, you finally finish, wrapping your hair in a towel while you pick out some clothes. 

You end up in a sweater your mom got you for Christmas last year. It’s warm and comforting, and you feel like you need that right now. Your hair dried to the point where it doesn’t look like a mop, you head downstairs. Upon seeing you, Sans comes over to press his teeth to your cheek. You smile and return the kiss.

“I was thinking,” you say as you take a seat on the couch. “I really need to thank Grillby in person. I mean, he literally saved my life. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. Nothing good, probably.”

Sans nods, expression tight as you remind him of your recent near-death experience. “We could go there for lunch, if you want. We haven’t been on a date in a while, and now that you’re not working…”He trails off, probably remembering how you feel about your sudden lack of a job. “If you want to, I mean.”

“That would be great!” you say, breaking out into a smile. “Perfect, even.”

* * *

 

For sake of maintaining appearances, you take Sans’ bike to the restaurant. Of course, this means you drive right past your former place of employment. Once you take a look at it, you wish you hadn’t. 

The building is halfway collapsed, soot and ash everywhere. Looking back to where the office and the hallway used to be, you see the semblances of a wall and windows, but nothing else. You can’t believe that you were  _ in  _ there. The thought causes you to shiver as you get off the bike and Sans turns to you, immediately guessing what’s wrong. 

“You’re okay, babe,” he says, intertwining his hand with yours. “I got ya.”

You nod, turning away from the ruins of the cafe. Together, the two of you walk into New Grillby’s, and you’re suddenly bathed in the same comforting warmth you felt when Grillby carried you out of the fire. Sans leads you to the bar, where you sit on the same stools as the first time you came in here. Grillby catches sight of you immediately and comes over.

“...How are you feeling?” You’ve never heard him speak before. His voice is deep and rough, but quiet. It makes you think of a campfire in the woods. 

“I’m doing great,” you say, beaming at him. “Full recovery, and it’s all thanks to you! I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

His flames turn a little redder in his face as he nods politely. Is that...blushing? Aw, that’s adorable!

“Glad I could help,” he says shortly. You and Sans order, burgers and fries for both. Once Grillby returns with the food, you barely hesitate before digging in. Sans, however, pauses, giving Grillby a sideways glance.

“What’s wrong?” you ask around a mouthful of food. Before he can answer, however, Grillby sets down a full bottle of ketchup. Sans grins, and snatches it up. squeezing a bit down his throat before dousing his fries. Of course. How could you have forgotten your boyfriend’s little quirk? You’ve come to find over the past few months that Sans  _ loves  _ ketchup. You do too, but only on top of other things, not  _ straight out of the bottle.  _ In Sans’ mind, there’s barely a food that can’t be improved with a side of ketchup. 

He turns to you and winks. “Sometimes you just need the  _ condimentals.”  _ Stifling a laugh, you manage to turn it into a groan. So it’s going to be one of  _ those  _ days. 

“You need to  _ ketchup  _ on your puns, bone boy,” you say as you pick up a fry, looking it over. “Or else I’ll need to  _ relish  _ in my victory.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sans’ smile grow dangerous. Oh, it’s on.

“If that’s how you want to  _ roll, _ ” he says, tapping his bun. “ _ Lettuce  _ begin.” You can feel the eyes of nearly every customer on you as you swivel in your seat to face Sans head-on. If he thinks you’re going to back down from this challenge, he’s got another thing coming. 

“Dear me, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a  _ pickle, _ ” you say, tossing a slice of the glorified cucumber at him. “Whatever shall I do? I simply cannot  _ mustard  _ up an idea.”

You hear a few ‘oohs’ from your fellow patrons and it adds to your confidence level. Your pun game is strong.

Sans doesn’t say anything; he simply reaches over to lift up the top bun of your burger. You watch, dumbfounded, as he picks up the salt shaker and sprinkles it right on top of your patty. “Don’t get all  _ salty  _ on me, babe.” That  _ bastard. _

You’re determined to win this. Just to spite him, you put your burger back together and take a bite. It takes all your effort not to scrunch up your face at the taste, but you manage. Sans is eying you warily, wondering what you’ll do next. As you swallow, you feel the burger patty, cooked to perfection, slip down your throat. Wait. Now  _ there’s  _ an idea. 

You set down the burger and fix Sans with your narrowed eyes. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and you simply grin back at him.

“Here’s the thing about burger puns,” you say, choosing your words slowly and deliberately. You have the attention of the entire restaurant at this point. “They’re a  _ rare medium well-done. _ ”

And the place goes  _ wild. _ Some of the dogs from a table across the way are literally howling with laughter. A bunny on the stool next to yours gives you a sloppy high-five. Even Grillby looks impressed from where he’s standing by the kitchen door. Guess it’s not every day these people see Sans get roasted. Heh. Roasted. You should write these down.  

As for the loser himself, he raises his arms and bows down to you, the queen of puns. You smile graciously, waving to the other customers as a ruler would her subjects. After a few seconds of reveling in your own glory you take pity on your poor boyfriend and pull him by the collar of his jacket into a quick kiss. The restaurant erupts into cheers. 

After the chaos calms down, you and Sans simply sit at the bar, chatting with the other patrons. Grillby comes over a few more times and you thank him profusely time and time again. At this point, you just want to see him blush again. 

You’re listening to a monster that looks suspiciously like a venus fly trap jabber on about monster cuisine when you overhear a conversation between a couple of people on the other side of the restaurant. 

“Did you hear that Muffet’s openin’ up a shop not too far from here? It’s a bakery, or something.”

“As long as she doesn't try to swindle me out of all my money, I might stop by.”

There’s a pause, and then the first one speaks up again. “She’s looking for employees. Bet you’d get a discount if you worked there.”

You hear a snort. “Yeah, sure. That’ll happen.”

As you listen to their conversation, an idea forms in your head. Muffet must be a pretty well-known monster. And she’s opening a bakery in town? That needs employees?

You stand up and walk over to the two talking monsters. They wave in recognition when they see you come over. 

“I heard you guys talking about a new bakery opening up?” you say. They both nod. “Do you think they would hire a human?”

The one on the right shrugs, as much as an anthropomorphic fish  _ can  _ shrug. “Doesn’t hurt to try. You seem like a pretty decent human. Better than most.”

You blush a little at the compliment, but his words remind you of the truth. Not all humans are good. One look at your former workplace can tell you that much. So you nod a polite goodbye to the two monsters, and walk back over to Sans.

“Hey, do you know anything about a monster named Muffet?” you ask. Sans nods.

“Yeah, she’s this, uh, spider lady? Makes decent donuts. Why d’you ask?”

You hop back up onto the bar stool and run a hand through your hair. “Some guys over there were talking about her opening up a bakery in town. I thought I might apply for a job there.”

Sans’ expression twists for a second, and you remember how he feels about you getting a new job. While you understand his reasons, you don’t agree. No matter what Sans tries to say, you still owe them rent at the end of every month, and you need a way to pay that. Plus, wouldn’t just staying at home all day be letting the racists win? Someone needs to stand up to those bigots. Might as well be you.

You’re expecting Sans to protest when he opens his mouth, but you’re pleasantly surprised. “...Okay. Yeah. I’m sure Muffet’ll be a great boss.” 

His acceptance of your choice makes you feel much better. “Mmhmm,” you say. “I know that you’re worried about me, and I promise that I’ll be fine. If it makes you feel better, you can take me to and from work every day. You can even stick around all day to make sure nothing bad happens. As long as you don’t distract me while I’m working.”

He chuckles and leans in close to you, resting a hand on the back of your neck and pressing his teeth to your forehead. “No promises, babe.”

The rest of the afternoon is passed in mutual comfort, and as you let your mind drift, you find yourself excited to look into getting a job from Muffet. Every other monster you’ve met has been so kind and understanding, and you’re sure she’ll be the same way.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that pun thing was the most glorious thing I have ever written. Pretty sure nothing I ever write again will be as great. Which is totally fine by me.
> 
> See you guys next chapter!


	23. Employment Nouveau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter would have TOTALLY been out earlier but I finally got a copy of Undertale! So I spent some time playing that instead of finishing everything up. But it's done now!
> 
> I am consistently floored by the overwhelming response to this fic. I never imagined I could write something that so many people enjoy. I hope you all continue to enjoy it.

“You ready?” Sans squeezes your hand as the two of you stand outside of the nearly complete bakery: Silk-Spun Creations. After you got home from New Grillby’s the other day, you did a little research on the computer and found the address for the new monster-run shop. The website said that help was very much needed and very much appreciated, so here you are. 

You nod in response to Sans’ question. “As I’ll ever be.”

You open the door, and it jangles as you do so. You’re met with what is, quite plainly, the cutest little bakery you’ve ever seen.

This Muffet sure has made the most out of her small space. The walls are painted a lovely shade of purple, with artful designs painted over them in another, lighter shade of purple. The display cases are trimmed in red and purple lace, and the few tables inside have matching tablecloths. Behind the display cases you can see a door that must lead back to the kitchen.

As if on cue, the door opens, and out comes, well, a spider. Sans wasn’t wrong when he described her to you. But  _ this  _ spider doesn’t look like any other spider you’ve ever seen, standing upright and nearly as tall as you are. She’s quite obviously female, wearing a dress the same color as the red lace, with bows in her hair. She’s kind of adorable, in a ‘could potentially eat you but looks like a ray of sunshine’ kind of way. 

“Well hello there,” she says. Her voice is as smooth as butter, silky and sweet. It draws you in, and you want to take a step closer. “May I ask how you dearies came to be in my shop? We don’t open for a few days, you know.”

“H-Hi,” you say, still a little overwhelmed by her appearance. “Are you Muffet? My name is , and I would like to apply for a job here.”

“Would you now?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “And why would a human want to work in a bakery run by a monster?”

You’re about to answer her but Sans steps forward instead. “Listen, lady. My girlfriend here just lost her job because her old employer thought she could hire monsters without getting any flack for it. You see that building on the corner down there? The one that burned down?  worked there. She’s the nicest human I’ve ever met and you’d be  _ lucky  _ to have her work for you.” He finishes his tirade and steps back. His hand is still entwined in yours, and you give it a little squeeze to show your thanks.

Muffet looks between the two of you and nods, a thoughtful look on her face. “You certainly seem like you would fit in well here, dearie,” she says. “And if you’re a friend to monsters, then I don’t see any problems with hiring you. That is if you don’t mind the occasional spider hanging around.” As if to illustrate her point, you see a small arachnid scurrying across the counter behind her. 

You’re not afraid of spiders, they just startle you when you’re not expecting them. Most of your experiences with spiders have involved a cordial agreement in which the spider stays where it is and you don’t feel compelled to reach for a broom or a tissue. You hate killing spiders; it always made you feel guilty when you were little.

“I’m cool with spiders,” you say. And you are, so long as one doesn’t decide to crawl down your shirt.

Muffet flashes you a brilliant smile. “Perfect! Then you’re hired! Let me just take your measurements and then we can talk about your hours.”

“Measurements?”

“Why of course!” Muffet pulls a tape measure out of a pocket and has you hold out your arms. “If you’re going to work here, you simply  _ must  _ look the part.” She takes a measurement around your hips, your waist, and your bust, and then reaches around you to measure your torso length. When she finishes, she straightens back up, the tape measure snapping closed. 

“Now, for your hours. We open on the 2nd, would you be able to start then?”

You nod. Your college takes pity on its poor students and gives you the whole month of January off. You don’t have classes again until the beginning of February. “Yeah, my schedule is pretty clear for the next month, actually,” you say. “So I could work any hours you want, pretty much.”

There’s that smile again. It’s a little...disarming, now that you think about it. It puts you at ease, in a completely uneasy kind of way. You can’t help but think that Muffet could be very dangerous if she wanted to be. “Perfect! How about you start off working Saturday through Wednesday, from noon until five, when we close?” You nod, completely happy with that arrangement. 

You exchange phone numbers with your new boss and settle on an hourly rate of $9.50. It’s higher than the minimum wage, so you’re pretty happy with it. Before you leave, you thank her again for giving you a job, and she assures you that it’s no problem. As you and Sans leave, you have a smile on your face. Everything seems to be working out perfectly.

“I wonder what kind of uniform I’ll have?” you say out loud as you and Sans walk over to his motorcycle, parked in the street. Maybe it will be like Muffet’s dress? You’d like that. That dress is super cute. 

Sans simply shrugs, a placid smile on his face. “I’m kinda interested in that myself.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised. He’s looking straight ahead, but there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Real mature,” you say, giving him a little shove. “You’re such a child.”

He doesn’t say anything as you slide your helmet over your head and climb onto the back of his motorcycle. Almost without thinking about it, you wrap your arms around his waist and tuck your chin over his shoulder. He revs up the engine and you speed off toward home.

When the two of you arrive, you’re greeted immediately be a very excited Papyrus. Even more so than usual.

“Woah Pap, what’s up with you?” you say as he grabs the two of you by your arms and drags you into the house. “Did something happen?”

“I got a job!” It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, both you and Sans break out in huge smiles.

“Way to go!”

“I’m proud of you, bro!”

Papyrus can’t keep still, bouncing up and down from excitement. “Undyne wanted an assistant to help teach her PE classes, and she asked the college to hire me, the GREAT PAPYRUS!” His sudden shouting causes you to flinch a little, but you hide it. Papyrus hasn’t been this excited about something in  _ ages.  _

“Maybe I’ll get to see you around at school!” you say. You still would never in a million years take a PE class from Undyne, even if Papyrus will be there too, but you could still stop by the athletic buildings and say hi. He’s worth it.

You and Sans listen as Papyrus tells you all about his new job, and you don’t realize how much time has passed until your stomach growls. Looking at the time, you see it’s past six. Definitely time for dinner.

“Hey Pap, how about I make us something special to celebrate our new jobs?”

He gasps. “You got hired too?”

You nod, grinning. “Yeah, I have a new job! And it’s at a bakery, so I should probably practice by making some cookies, too…”

Papyrus thinks this is the greatest idea in the world. 

“I will assist you in the kitchen!” he says. “The food can only be improved with the presence of the great Papyrus!”

You see Sans trying to sneak away out of the corner of your eye, and you grab him, pulling him back towards you. “Nuh-uh. You get to help too.”

* * *

 

Cooking is always the most fun when you work with the brothers, even if it isn’t the most streamlined process. Papyrus is always so happy to help, and he loves learning how to cook something new. Sans would much rather sit on the couch, you can tell, but he tries hard enough. Tonight you’re making chicken pot pie. Since Papyrus loves making spaghetti so much, you’ve put him in charge of the gravy. You’re boiling the vegetables and grilling the chicken, while Sans is shaping the crust. 

“Why are we filling the pie with a non-sugary substance?” Papyrus asks, face furrowed in confusion. “Sans did that once. It was strange.”

“That was a quiche, bro,” Sans says from the other side of the kitchen. You turn to him on surprise. 

“You make quiches?”

Sans reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “Heh, not really? I used to, though. I cooked stuff all the time.”

Papyrus beams at you. “Sans was the one who first taught me how to make spaghetti! I have since improved on the recipe.”

“Well, sure!” you say. 

Another hour passes and the pie has been filled and placed in the oven. Papyrus insists on watching it cook, so you and Sans relocate to the dining room where you start setting the table.

“Do you think you could teach me how to make a quiche?” you ask as you set down the plates. “I’ve never really figured out how to make them work.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sans says. “I mean, it’s been a really long time since I made one, you know? Probably won’t be perfect.”

You smile. “But what is, right?” As you turn back to place the forks, you hear Sans mutter something under his breath.

“What was that?” you say.

“You.” You feel his arms wrap around your waist and his chin nuzzle into your shoulder. “You’re perfect. Absolutely spectacular.”

His words take you by surprise and bring a flush to your face. You’re not really sure how to respond; you’ve always been bad at accepting compliments. So instead of trying to form any sort of coherent response, you just sort of lean back into him and laugh nervously.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning you around so you can look him in the eyes.

“I thought you were Sans,” you respond dryly.

He lets out a quiet ‘heh’, but then continues. “, babe, you are such an amazing person. The best human I’ve ever known. And it’s only been a few months, but I can’t imagine being without you. I meant what I said the other night. I love you.” 

His words are so tender, so sweet, you’re moved to tears. They pool at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you look down at the ground, your lips parted in a blissful smile. When you look back up at him, the sheer adoration you see in his eyes sends you over the edge. Tears are flowing down your cheeks as you pull Sans in for a kiss, all your current fears and anxieties forgotten. You would have never thought in a million years that you could find someone like him. Someone who loves you, who thinks you’re beautiful. It all feels so overwhelming.

“I love you too, Sans,” you gasp back once you pull back from him. “Jesus Christ, I love you so much.” You bury your face in his neck and just stay there for a moment, holding him as he holds you. Bony fingers thread through your hair and you feel a supporting hand at your back.

When he speaks again, you feel it rumbling through his chest as well as the air. “I promise you, I will always be there for you when you need me. Every time.”

You press your lips to where his ear would be. “Me too, Sans. I will never, ever, leave you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well isn't that just adorable.
> 
> Muffet is really cute and I love her. Also chicken pot pie is literal heaven on earth.
> 
> See you guys next time!


	24. Feu d'Artifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I never meant to take this long to update but I ended up being way busier this weekend than I originally anticipated AND my lit analysis teacher finally decided to start assigning homework so dealing with that was fun. Also I played Undertale for five hours on Sunday but that's neither here nor there. 
> 
> I apologize, and here is the chapter.

“Wait, run that by me again. You’re saying humans launch colorful  _ bombs  _ into the sky-”

“To celebrate the new year, yeah. And they’re not bombs. They’re fireworks. Made of gunpowder and fancy chemicals, or something like that. I think the chemicals are what make them change color?”

Sans shakes his head. “I just don’t get it.”

You pull away from the oven, having just placed a sheet of cookies inside. “You’ll see them tonight. The city puts on a pretty good show for New Years'. We should be able to see it really well from Toriel’s house.”

Before you or Sans can say anything else, Papyrus comes bounding into the kitchen. “Frisk requires your presence outside, ! To play in the snow!”

“Do they now?” you say. You can’t turn Frisk down, but you’ve just put the cookies in the oven…

“I can watch the cookies,” Sans says, as if he’s reading your mind. “Go have fun, babe.”

You smile and give Sans a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks a bunch!”

Pulling on your winter coat and a pair of gloves, you head outside to find Frisk standing on the porch. 

“Hey kiddo!” you say, ruffling their hat. “Excited for tonight?” 

They nod, and bring up their hands.  Mom’s making pie! I could smell it all morning.

“I bet it was driving you crazy, huh?” You receive a shrug in response. “Well, do you wanna start by building a snowman?”

Frisk responds by grabbing your hand and pulling you off the porch. You’re really glad you had the foresight to salt the front steps because the ice has been pretty thick this winter. Don’t want to trip. 

Once you’re in the yard, Frisk immediately starts rolling a big ball of snow around. You do the same to form the middle. Your task is smaller, you’re done sooner, so you start on the head as well. Pretty soon Frisk is satisfied with the width of their part, so you lift up the middle and place it on top, smoothing out the edges. Frisk grabs the head and the two of you set it on top together, making sure it doesn’t fall. 

You run to grab a few rocks from under the porch, and tell Frisk where they can find a carrot. Once you’ve finished placing the rocks, you even take the scarf Toriel made you and tie it around the snowman’s neck. After Frisk sticks the carrot in, they smile at you.

Now all we need is a hat!

“Know where we can find one?” They nod.

Asgore has one! I’ll be right back!

You watch them practically skip off to their house with a smile on your face. You wish you had half the energy Frisk seems to. After they disappear through the doorway, you hear the crunch of footsteps in snow behind you. Turning around, you see Sans approaching you, hands tucked into his sweatshirt pockets. 

“Lookin’ good,” he says, nodding at the snowman. “Better than I could do.”

You roll your eyes. “You know Sans, if you applied yourself you could make a great snowman. It’s not that hard.”

He smiles at you, taking your hand. “But that would require effort, and there’s  _ snow  _ way I would put myself through something like that.” You let out a short laugh and turn back to the snowman, scanning the ground for twigs you can use as arms. You spot a few poking out from underneath the porch, and you make a beeline straight for them, dropping Sans’ hand. Snatching up the twigs, you run back to stick them in the sides of the snowman just as Frisk emerges with a top hat. 

As they place the hat over the top of the snowman’s head, you get a strong sense of accomplishment. Your beautiful snowman is complete. Pulling out your phone, you have Frisk stand next to it so you can get a decent picture. Then they pull you in as well, and Sans takes a picture of both of you with it. The picture is actually pretty cute, and you set it as your lock screen background.

After a few more minutes of playing in the snow, Frisk lets out a sneeze. Looking at them, you see their nose turning red. Feeling your own nose, it’s cold to the touch as well. 

“Hey Frisk, you wanna go inside and get some hot chocolate? They nod vigorously and dash inside, you and Sans following close behind. Frisk often comes over for hot chocolate, so they grab the mix from your pantry and pull the milk out of the fridge. By the time you catch up to them, they’re heating up a bunch of milk in the microwave. It’ll smell gross later, but whatever. Anything for hot chocolate. 

You grab the bag of marshmallows and a few mugs from the cupboard. When the microwave beeps, Frisk snatches the milk from it, wrinkling their nose as they smell it. After you dump a decent amount of mix into each mug, Frisk stirs in some milk, until the kitchen is filled with the warm, delicious smell of chocolate. To make it perfect, you dump an obscene amount of marshmallows in your cup, stirring them around until they dissolve from the heat.

Taking a sip, you hum in contentment. Good stuff. Frisk likes theirs too, if the brown residue above their lip is any indication. Sans simply watches from the archway leading out of the kitchen. 

“I  _ moustache  _ you a question,” he says, gesturing to your lip. Before you can wipe away the chocolate, he steps up to you, blue tongue appearing from behind his teeth. “But I’ll  _ shave  _ it for later.” Without warning, his tongue darts out, licking off the residue before capturing you in a kiss. You giggle a little at the sudden contact. 

Pulling back from him, you see Frisk sticking their tongue out.  You guys are gross!

“You see that, Sans?” you say, smiling innocently. “We’re gross.”

“Positively disgusting,” he agrees, before pulling you into another, deeper kiss. You hear the soft noises of Frisk scurrying from the kitchen, causing you to laugh into Sans’ mouth. They’ll understand someday. You were the same way when you were their age. 

Pulling away from Sans for real this time, you bring your mug into the living room, where Frisk has co-opted your television. Sitting down next to them, you watch in childish glee as they scoot away, shooting you a dirty look. 

“Aw Frisk, it’s just grown-up stuff,” you tease as Sans sits down on your other side, pulling at your waist so you lean into him. “Who knows, you might want to kiss someone someday.”

Kissing is gross.

“Super gross,” you say as Sans presses his teeth to your cheek. Glaring at the two of you, Frisk reaches behind them to pick up a pillow. Thanks to a sudden sense of foreboding, you manage to cover your mug before the pillow hits your face. You see Frisk giggling behind their hand, and your eyes narrow.

It’s on.

Thrusting your mug into Sans’ hands, you stand up and grab the pillow from where it’s fallen on the floor. “You’re going down, kid,” you say before taking a swing. 

They parry you almost effortlessly, jumping up on the couch and grabbing another pillow. With a look of sheer determination in their eyes, they leap at you from their high perch like an eagle descending on its prey. 

Luckily, you’re a little smarter than that. You duck out of the way, blocking their attacks with your pillow. Between blows you see Sans sitting on the couch, enjoying the spectacle. 

Eventually Frisk has you backed up into the corner, and you have no choice but to surrender. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” you cry as you fall to your knees, your now useless pillow cast aside. Frisk kneels down beside you, and you take your chance. 

“Gotcha!” You snag them by the waist and bring them down for a serious tickling. Even though they’re not making any noise, you can see their shaking shoulders and the wide smile on their face. They’re loving this. 

You continue your tickle tirade for another minute until finally you let them go. They stick their tongue out at you, but you can see the twinkle in their eye. 

After a few more minutes Frisk realizes they need to get home and changed before the big shindig. You watch them trek across the yard between your houses and wave at Toriel when she comes to let them in. Not too long and you’ll be over there, too. 

Which reminds you. The cookies. Luckily Sans kept his promise. They look just fine, and you’ve noticed more than a few are missing (Sans averts his eyes when you ask him about it). You package up the rest in a Tupperware container and set them aside.

You still feel a little cold from playing out in the snow, so you head upstairs to take a shower and get dressed in something nice. You go with your slacks (the best pair of pants you own) and a black jacket over a purple tank top. Not exactly fancy, but you still look nice. Checking your phone, you see it’s nearly seven. Time to head over.

You, Sans, and Papyrus are the first ones there, besides its normal occupants, of course. Frisk takes you into the backyard, where they show you their fireworks set up. There’s a spot cleared on the gravel of their yard where a bunch of the ground kind lay. Frisk shows you a box on the table and you see it’s full of sparklers. 

“I guess we’re ready to party, huh?” you ask. They nod. 

Heading back inside, you see that Undyne and Alphys have arrived. They’re sitting in the living room with everyone else, watching the New Years’ Eve celebration in New York City. There’s a performance going on right now and it looks like…

“Is that Mettaton?” you ask. And sure enough, it is. Your robot friend is tearing it up out there, soaking up the spotlight like nobody’s business. He’s performing one of his first singles, “Oh My Love”. The audience loves it, of course. 

“I’m happy he found what he wanted,” Alphys says. 

You all watch him for a while before Toriel comes in to tell you that dinner’s ready. Tonight you’re having fettuccine alfredo. Papyrus is originally perplexed at the white sauce, but he grows to really enjoy it. As people start to finish their meal, the conversational din starts to grow.

“So, ,” Undyne says. You can hear the smirk in her voice and it makes you nervous. “I heard that human couples kiss each other at midnight. Is that true?”

You shoot a glance towards Sans, whose eyebrow ridge is raised. “Yeah, that’s true,” you say. “I don’t really know why. Something about ‘ringing in the new year’, probably.”

“Not the way  _ I’d  _ want to start off the year,” Sans says, his breath a tickle at your ear. You blush furiously as Toriel shoots a nasty glare his way, head jerking towards Frisk. Luckily, they seem oblivious. Sans simply shrugs in her direction. 

After dinner you all go back to watching the TV special. The time drags on, and after a few rounds of Uno (which end about as terribly as anyone would expect) and Frisk’s first cup of coffee (they really, really,  _ really  _ want to stay up until midnight), the ball drops in Times Square. It’s only eleven where you are, but you all cheer anyway. Frisk forces everyone outside so you can light sparklers. Since you’re the only adult who’s ever done anything like this before, you light everyone’s and show them how to hold it carefully. They’re the colored ones, and yours is purple. You wave it around, smiling at the glow it casts on everything. Sparklers have always been your favorite type of firework. They may not explode in the sky, but they have a magic all their own.

“What do you think?” you ask Sans, who’s sitting in a lawn chair, watching his blue sparkler as it pops and fizzles. “Pretty cool, huh?”

He beams at you. “Oh, I can think of something that’s  _ pretty,  _ for sure.” You laugh, reaching over to pull him out of the chair. “But they’re definitely  _ sparktacular. _ ”

You narrow your eyes. “No.”

After the sparklers fizzle out, Frisk immediately wants to set off the ones on the ground. You tell everyone to clear the chairs out of the area, and to stand back as you take a lighter to the fuse. When it’s lit, you dash out into the yard, turning around in time to see the fountain of flames erupt. 

It’s a nice display. The monsters all seem transfixed by it, and you can see the metaphorical wheels turning in Sans’ skull. You should brush up on the chemicals the manufacturers use to color the explosions. 

Before long, the ground fireworks are all spent. You help sweep up the charred remains and when you’re finished, you look at the clock. Five minutes to midnight. When you announce this to the group, everyone moves to where they can see the city skyline in the distance. 

“One minute!” you cry, and everyone starts counting down, Undyne and Alphys leading it. 

Fifty-seven, fifty-six. You feel a bony hand fold into yours. Sans presses close to you, close enough so you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

Forty, thirty-nine. Frisk is jumping up and down in excitement and Papyrus lifts them up onto his shoulders so they can see better. You crack a smile.

Fifteen, fourteen. Undyne and Alphys are standing with their arms wrapped around each other and you see the light from the house glint off of their matching rings. 

Five, four, three, two. Before you hit one, Sans suddenly pulls you in to face him, his eyes wild and oh so happy.

At one you’re kissing, you’re kissing Sans as the old year ends and the new one begins. Your eyes flutter shut as you wrap an arm around him for balance, your fists grabbing his jacket for something to hold onto, something to keep you grounded.

Because right now you feel like you’re floating.

The whines and pops start while your eyes are still closed, and you see the bright flashes of color through your eyelids. Opening them, you pull back from Sans but your eyes don’t leave him, watching transfixed as the color shines off his skull. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not wanting to shatter the perfect moment.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow if I keep this up you guys are gonna think I'm a huge sap!


	25. Ribbons and Lace*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo I'm posting from school because I'm super pumped about this chapter
> 
> the whole last part was a complete accident I did not mean for that to happen

The outfit Muffet has for you is certainly...interesting.

“Is this all of it?” you ask hesitantly as you hold the sleeves up to your shoulders. “It seems a little small.”

“Nonsense, dearie!” Muffet says. “I tailored it exactly to your measurements.”

You’re still pretty unsure about this, but there’s not much you can do about it. Muffet shows you to the bathroom, and you head inside to change.

Muffet was right. The outfit is certainly tailored to you. The sleeves go down to your elbows and hug your arms snugly. The dress itself shows just a little bit of cleavage. Not so much that you’re uncomfortable, but enough so that it’s more than you’re used to. It comes down to the middle of your thighs, but she also gave you some tights to wear underneath. The color is nice, though. It’s a deep burgundy, with black lace accents. Before you head back out into the bakery, you stand in front of the mirror and pull at the dress, willing it to stretch down. No such luck. 

When you emerge from the bathroom, Muffet looks at you and clasps her hands excitedly. “It fits perfectly! You look wonderful, dearie.”

A blush creeps onto your face and you tug at your sleeves. “Well, you’re the one that made it, so…”

“An artist can’t paint without a canvas to work with,” she says. “And you are a simply fine canvas.”

When the two of you are done trading compliments, Muffet gives you a breakdown of how your job is going to go. Because you’re here, she says, she will be able to spend more time baking while she’s on the clock. Which means less work in the morning. She shows you how to work the cash register (it’s magic and much easier to use than a human-made one) and teaches you how to pronounce some of the pastries. She even lets you try a few. They’re all delicious. Your personal favorite is a donut with a maple glaze. It’s literally the best donut you’ve ever had. 

By 12:30, the first customers arrive. All monsters, some you haven’t seen before are wary of your presence. You don’t take it to heart; they have every right to be. But they start warming up to you when the dog couple you’ve seen at New Grillby’s strike up a friendly conversation with you. After that, the other customers seem much more willing to talk to you beyond ordering something. 

You’re so busy with the line that you don’t even notice that Sans has entered the bakery until you see the blue of his jacket out of the corner of your eye. When you look up, he’s staring at you with a smile on his face and a blush in his cheekbones. You suddenly remember the outfit you’re wearing. Even more so than before, you’re made aware of the fact that this is not your typical clothing. 

You elect to stop staring at Sans and concentrate on your job, getting through the line with ease. After you give a bunny three cookies, she steps away to reveal your boyfriend, hands tucked in his pockets. Glancing behind him, you see there’s no one else in line. 

“You look nice,” he says. You smile. But the noises you hear from the kitchen remind you that you’re working and you need to do your job. And as much as you’d love to stand there and let Sans ogle you, you have a feeling that Muffet wouldn’t like that very much.

So you put a stop to this nonsense. “Welcome to Silk-Spun Creations! What can I get for you?”

Sans pretends to think, tapping his skull and tilting his head a little. “Hmm. All these sweets look pretty good, but.” He leans forward and his voice drops to a low murmur. “I’d rather eat  _ you  _ for dessert.”

Your breath hitches and you bite down on your lip in an attempt to stop the furious pounding of your heart and the racing thoughts in your head. What a jerk. 

As quickly as his voice switched before, it switches back, and now he’s hanging back, smiling slyly at you. “But for now I think I’ll grab a ‘funnel cake’.”

Shooting him the sternest glare you can muster, you grab a cake crisscrossed with impossibly thin lines of icing, mimicking the den of a funnel-web spider. Slipping it into a black bag embellished with the bakery logo, you slide it across the counter, refusing to meet Sans’ eyes.

“That’ll be $2.50,” you say in a flat voice. Sans pushes the money towards you and as you reach for it, he pushes himself up to give you his version of a kiss. No matter how frustrated he’s making you, you can’t help but smile a little. He steps back with his pastry and winks at you. You roll your eyes in response.

Sans doesn’t leave the bakery after he’s finished his cake, but he doesn’t stare at you the whole time, either. Muffet’s place has wi-fi, and you see him pull out a laptop and do something on it. He  _ does  _ work from home, but you’ve never been able to figure out what exactly it is that he does. Maybe you should talk to Muffet about adding drinks to the menu. Make it more of a cafe than just a bakery. You make a mental note to let her know your thoughts later.

A little after four, Muffet finally emerges from the kitchen, arms carrying trays of different pastries. She helps you put them in the display, and then she turns to you.

“Would you mind emptying the trash for me, dearie? The dumpster’s just out back.”

You nod and grab the bags from by the door. The door to the alley behind the bakery is in the back of the kitchen, and when you walk through it, you see no less than thirty fist-sized spiders working tirelessly on decorating pastries. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine, but you suppress it. They’re not like the spiders that like to crawl in your room while you’re asleep. 

The alley behind the bakery is pretty open compared to the one by New Grillby’s, It smells absolutely terrible, though. One whiff in the direction of the dumpster is enough to activate your gag reflex. Breathing through your mouth, you flip open the lid. 

There’s a lot of rotting...something in the dumpster. You don’t look too carefully about it, and instead toss the garbage bags in, slamming the lid shut as fast as you can. You feel like something’s crawling down your back and you’re utterly disgusted. 

As you move to head back inside the bakery, you swear you can hear feet shuffling somewhere behind you. But you shrug it off, citing it as your nerves. After all, you don’t have the best experiences in regards to alleys. And the overpowering smell of something rotten would be enough to make anyone a little jumpy. 

The rest of your shift passes normally. The monsters are all so polite, it’s nothing like what you’ve had to deal with from humans. No middle-aged suburban white mom is here to tell you you’re doing your job wrong. No man at least twenty years older than you to leer at you. Just friendly, sometimes chatty monsters. It’s so refreshing. 

At five, the last few customers trickle out. You wipe down the counters one final time, and Muffet gives you a few leftover pastries for the road. When you’re finished, Sans walks up and takes your hand.

“Are we taking the bike?” you say. If so, you probably want to change back into the clothes that are stuffed in a bag on your arm. But Sans shakes his head.

Before you can react, you feel yourself pulled through space, magic coursing through your very soul. As quick as the feeling begins, it’s over, and you’re standing in your bedroom.

Sans’ hands are all over you in an instant.

“You look so  _ good _ today.” He’s practically purring, his phalanges raking up your sides. You lean into his touch, craving the release he’s sure to bring. His earlier teasing comes back to you unbidden, and a delightful idea alights in your brain.

“If I look so good then why don’t you  _ eat me _ ?”

Blue lights up in his eye and his tongue appears. He lays you down on the bed as you kick off your shoes. Sans’s hands roam up under your dress and find the top of your tights. He pulls them off, slowly, sensually, his fingers pressing into your legs on the way down. You move to help him with the dress, its stretchy fabric allowing you to simply pull it over your head. 

Your underwear now exposed, Sans presses a finger into the fabric. It feels good, and you rut into his fingers. He chuckles as he peels it off of you and positions himself in front of your now exposed entrance. 

“ _ Bone  _ appetit.”

You feel compelled to hit him for his  _ stupid  _ pun, but you forget everything when his tongue drags across your clit. 

“Shit,” you breathe out as your hands clench into fists and your thighs tighten. “ _ Shit.” _

The pressure is building up in your core, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to release. When Sans pulls back from you, it’s impossible to hold in your whine of disappointment. 

“You taste so good, babe,” he growls. 

The combination of his voice and the desire pooling in your gut almost sends you over the edge. “Sans...please,” you squeak out. You want him inside you. You  _ need  _ him inside you. 

Thankfully, he gets the message. You barely see the flash of blue before he’s pushing inside you. Your eyes go wide and your mouth goes slack, your brain becoming little more than blissful mush. Sans is inside you, and everything is right with the universe. 

He’s moving inside you now, and your insides are churning, sputtering, desperate to feel the sweet ecstasy of release. Another few seconds and then every muscle in your body spasms, clenching and unclenching. Seconds later Sans comes too, his juices filling you up. 

After he pulls out, he lays down next to you, and the two of you just stay there for a while. The twilight fades into a deep blue and you feel a deep sense of completeness and security. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe. Sometimes I do things and I don't know where they come from.
> 
> See you guys next time!


	26. Spoke and Stench

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, folks!
> 
> I'm off of school this week, so I have nothing stopping me from staying up late and writing fic! 
> 
> Other than the fact that I need to, like, plan some of the upcoming chapters out so that I actually know what I'm doing, but whatever.

On your first day off from work, the weather is surprisingly warm.

The sidewalks and roads are still wet, but there’s no snow to be found. And when you check your phone, you’re surprised to see it’s fifty degrees outside. A day like this is perfect to be spending outside.

Papyrus seems to be on the same page. He corners you at breakfast, while you’re pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.

“Have you ever been bike riding?” he asks. You nod. You haven’t ridden since the summer, when you and your brother would go on trails together. “Well, Undyne and I have been riding our bikes often together, and it is a very enjoyable activity to do with friends! Since we, too, are friends, I believe we should ride bikes together as well!”

You smile. Papyrus is always ready to do something like this with you. He thinks any form of exercise is a bonding activity. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get you to jog around the neighborhood with him. It’s never going to work, but you admire his effort. However, there’s one small problem with this bike plan.

“I’d love to, Pap, but I don’t have my bike here. It’s literally thousands of miles away!”

But Papyrus will not be defeated so easily. “That’s no problem! You can borrow Undyne’s bike! She told me it’s ‘state of the art’, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

That...doesn’t sound too bad. “Are you sure she wouldn’t mind?”

He tilts his skull and gives you a wink. “Just don’t crash it, and we’ll be fine!”

You suppose Undyne won’t murder you if you borrow her bike for a few hours. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. “Okay, then. Sure. You got somewhere in mind?”

“There’s a trail Undyne and I like to use down by the lake. It’s very nice!” You nod. You know the one. You’ve taken walks down there before. 

“Why don’t we make an outing of it?” you say. “We can bring a few snacks and have a picnic!” Papyrus is absolutely enthralled with this idea, and the two of you spend an hour preparing spaghetti for the occasion.

After your “snacks” are gathered, you slip a note under Sans’ door (it’s nearly noon and he’s  _ still  _ asleep) and head out. Ever since his reaction to your sudden disappearance before the wedding, you’ve been careful to always let him know where you’ll be, and if possible, how long you’ll be gone. But you’re with Papyrus today; everything should be fine. He won’t have to worry.

The two of you bike down to the trail and start off heading east. It strikes you once again how nice of a day it is. The sun is out in full force, and it shines through the trees that line the sides of the trail. There’s more snow here than out on the road, but nothing you can’t avoid with a little artful swerving. 

Eventually, you come out from under the trees and find yourselves in the middle of a large park. The citizens of the town are out in full force today, walking their dogs, having picnics, just like the two of you plan to do. There’s a surprising lack of kids, but then you remember that the local school district’s been in session all week. Ah, the joys of being a college student. 

You and Papyrus stop right by a picnic table that backs right up to the trail. As he sets up your meal, you pull out your phone. No word from Sans. So instead, you text him.

**Awake yet, sleepy-bones?**

Turning back to the table, you find a plate of spaghetti sitting in front of you. Smiling gratefully at Papyrus, you dig in. His spaghetti really is getting better every time he makes it. 

“So Papyrus, I was wondering,” you say after you’ve taken a few bites. “What was life like for the two of you back in the Underground? Sans never tells me much.” Well, that’s not entirely true. Knowing how much the resets have skewed Sans’ perception of the Underground, you’re not sure you should be asking him about what life was like there. The less he dwells on his painful past, the better. But from what he’s told you, you know that Papyrus doesn’t remember the resets; only the last timeline, the one happening right now.

“Sans was always such a lazybones,” Papyrus says. You laugh.

“Even more than he is now?”

“Yes! He almost never got out of bed by himself in the morning. I always had to wake him up to remind him to do his job. Well, jobs. He had four of them.”

You gasp. “ _ Four _ ? How could he manage so many?”

Papyrus only shrugs. “He always took a lot of breaks. Like I said, lazybones.” His demeanor grows more serious. “I have noticed a dramatic shift in his mood since you moved in with us, . Sans is much more cheerful than he used to be. Although he makes more silly puns. I could do without those.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Aw Paps, I know they can’t get under your  _ skin  _ too badly, after all, you don’t have any.”

You wish you had a camera ready to take a picture of the look of utter betrayal and disgust that crosses Papyrus’ face.

“I am going home!” he says, packing up the picnic basket and getting in his bike. “I have had enough of this tomfoolery!”

Jumping on your bike, you pedal double-time to catch up with him. “Don’t tell me you can’t  _ handle  _ it.” You reach over and tap one of the handlebars of his bike.

The groan he lets out is  _ so  _ worth the burning in your muscles.

* * *

 

Work continues in much the same manner as your first day on the job. You still feel a little self-conscious in the outfit Muffet made for you, but you’re getting used to it. It gives Sans a reason to stare at you in a lustful manner, anyway. What else could you ask for?

One of the more unpleasant parts of your job continues to be the trek out to the dumpster. Two days off has not improved its signature stench one bit. Instead, you think the smell gets worse every day. At least Muffet keeps her bakery running all day while you’re there. The smell from the kitchen completely masks the musk of the dumpster when you’re standing at the order counter. It honestly doesn’t make any sense to you. How can something smell so appallingly bad, even something known specifically for its stink?

When the troublesome task is given to you today, you’re already holding your breath before you open the door, ready to dash to the dumpster and dash back before the smell can permeate your nostrils. But after you push the door out, you stop short.

Someone’s at the dumpster.

You’re never seen this man before. He’s got some garbage bags in his hand, and one of them is...dripping. Gross. Probably something from the butcher shop down the street. Why he’d want to dispose of something like that in a dumpster here when there must be one closer to the butcher baffles you. Can someone even dump leftover animal parts in something like that? That must be some sort of health code violation. Not that the whole dumpster couldn’t be considered a health code violation. 

Eventually the man leaves, walking briskly down the alley and between a couple of buildings. You emerge from Silk-Spun Creations and head over to the dumpster, swinging open the lid. Because of how the man tossed in the bags, you can see right into them. And the sight you’re met with is anything but pleasant.

The bag that was dripping is filled with what looks like clothes. Bloodstained clothes. Like,  _ dripping blood.  _ The clothes are covered in something else, too. Fine particles, like sand, or dust. Whatever. You’re more concerned about the fact that the man you just saw dumped  _ bloody clothes  _ into a dumpster. 

That’s not all. Another bag is very clearly holding a knife, covered in more blood, dry this time, and the same substance which you’re nearly certain is dust now.

Your mind is reeling with the possibilities of what this could be. Blood, you understand. Blood is bad. But the dust? What does that mean?

As you ponder the new questions forming in your mind, you become acutely aware of the shuffling of feet behind you. Immediately, as if electrocuted, you shoot up, neck craned so you can see over your shoulder.

The man who dumped the bags is standing there, watching you. You skin is prickling, and every instinct in your body is telling you to  _ run.  _

So you do. You dump the trash in the dumpster, shut the lid, and hightail it back into the bakery as fast as you can. Just to be safe, you deadbolt the door behind you. But no one comes to knock on it, and you don’t hear footsteps approaching. You allow yourself to breathe out a sigh of relief and reflect on what just happened. 

Maybe it wasn’t anything to get all worked up about. Maybe what you thought were clothes were just rags used to soak up extra blood from the butcher. And the knife was old and needed replacing. That doesn’t explain the dust, but you’re willing to work with it. That  _ has  _ to be the explanation for what you just saw, right? Nothing else makes any sense.

When you’ve finally managed to collect yourself, you head back into the main part of the bakery. Muffet, seeing your return, goes back into the kitchen, leaving you to deal with the last rush of the day. 

By immersing yourself totally and completely in your job, you can forget about the troubling things you just witnessed. And by the time work is over for the day, the whole event has faded into the recesses of your mind. 

But that doesn’t last long. When you and Sans are walking to his motorcycle, you happen to glance down that alley and catch sight of the dumpster. A shiver runs down your spine. And, of course, Sans picks up on it.

“You okay there, babe?” he asks, rubbing your arm in a soothing manner. You force your gaze away from the dumpster and to his face instead, giving him a warm smile.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. You know you should at least  _ mention  _ what you saw to Sans, but you don’t want him to worry. After all, you’ve all but made up your mind that it was nothing. “It’s just a little cold out, you know?”

He winks at you. “Actually, I don’t know.” You laugh, maybe a little harder than normal. “Let’s get home so I can warm you up, eh?”

Sans manages to make you forget about all your troubles that night, and you couldn’t love him more for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot (finally) begins to thicken, like jesus christ I'm over 50k into this thing it's about time we get some goddamn intrigue.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> See ya next time!


	27. Irreversible and Irreplaceable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting to write this chapter since December, man. That's how excited I am for it. 
> 
> And before I release it upon you, my dear readers, I have one thing to say.
> 
> sorry not sorry

The other shoe drops the next Monday. 

You’re busy making oatmeal in the kitchen, the morning news on the TV in the living room. Sans is up for once, and watching something about the lunar eclipse due to happen later in the week. But by the time you stir in a few spoonfuls of sugar and head over to join him, the news story has changed.

“Breaking news out of northern Minnesota this morning,” the news anchor says, a grim look on her face. This can’t be good. You slide onto the couch next to Sans and wait for the story to be explained. 

“Earlier this morning, a hiker found human remains along the Lakewalk trail.” You gasp in shock. That’s the trail you and Papyrus were on only a few days ago. You can’t help but wonder how close you were to the scene of the crime.

The anchor continues. “Not only that, but the remains were mixed in with copious amounts of dust.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sans visibly tense up at the mention of the word ‘dust’.

“Sans?” you ask. “Why is dust so important? What does that mean?”

He looks down at his hands, not meeting your eyes. “When monsters die, they turn into dust.”

Instantly, something clicks in your head. You remember that bag, that bag of blood soaked clothes covered in dust. The knife, also covered in dust. And now, today, the discovery of one, no, two bodies, one human, one monster, in woods not that far from where you work.

It doesn’t take you very long to make the connection. Your heartbeat takes off, pounding in your throat. The man you saw wasn’t an employee of the butcher shop at all. He was dumping, you’re almost certain, evidence. And he saw you. You’re not sure what would have happened if you didn’t run back into the bakery. You never did tell anyone about what you saw. Maybe you should at least tell Sans. 

But on the other hand, you can feel his worry radiating off his soul from here. And he’s already so protective of you. Maybe you shouldn’t make that any worse. 

Sans wordlessly turns the channel to some movie from the eighties and places a hand on your knee. You look at him. 

“Maybe you should stay home from work for a few days,” he says. “Until everything calms down.”

You know he’s right. You know it’s probably a good idea to stay home for a while, especially because of what you saw in the dumpster. But you just...can’t. You’d go stir crazy if you couldn’t go anywhere. 

“Sans, you know I can’t do that,” you say, standing up. His hand falls onto the couch. “I have a job. I need to go to work.”

“Muffet’ll understand,” he says, standing up as well. “Babe, it isn’t safe out there. Think about what we just saw. Think about what  _ you’ve  _ been through.”

You can feel the anxiety and fear that’s been bouncing around in your stomach turn into something more antagonistic. “I  _ know _ what I’ve been through,” you spit out, your voice growing in volume. “It’s never going to  _ be  _ 100% safe out there. That’s no reason to hide and hope it all goes away. There’s always going to be something.” You decide to throw in an extra jab. “Why don’t you  _ trust  _ me to keep myself safe?”

Sans stops short, his retort halted. “I-”, he starts. “I  _ do  _ trust you, .”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you bite back, the words slipping off your tongue like a penguin on ice. “If you trust me, why do you feel like you need to take me to work every day?”

His eyesockets narrow. “Hey, that was  _ your  _ idea in the first place.”

You turn away from him, arms crossed. Sans pointing that out is  _ not  _ going to make you any more conducive to cordiality. “Whatever. Let’s just go, I’m going to be late for work.”

Today you insist on taking the car instead of Sans’ motorcycle. You spend the whole ride there looking out the window, pointedly killing any kind of conversation Sans tries to start. Where all this animosity is coming from, you’re not sure. All you know is that you are tired, annoyed, and more than a little worried. And having already determined that you’re not going to talk about your fears, you turn to lashing out, instead. Maybe a day of work will calm you down.

And it does, for a while. You’re able to lose yourself in your practiced routine of asking for an order, filling it, calculating the price, collecting the money, wishing the customer a good day. Of course, this doesn’t completely quell the nasty thoughts drifting around inside your head. And when your eyes flick to the back of the bakery, where Sans is sitting, the thoughts only grow in intensity.

He isn’t even pretending to do work. His laptop is out, but he barely glances at it, and his fingers never make a single keystroke. You’re  pretty sure the screen is dark by now. His eyes are flitting between you and the door, and you have to take a few breaths to quell the rage that keeps springing up inside you.

You really don’t know why this is bothering you so much today. You just know that every time you see Sans looking at you, your blood boils like nothing else. Maybe it’s the stress you’ve been under lately. Maybe you’re getting fed up with his protectiveness. It sure seems like it at the moment, anyway. He says he trusts you, but there he is, watching  _ you  _ just as much as the door. If not even more so.

With no one to talk to about your conflicting emotions and thus, no way to deal with them, they continue to fester throughout the day. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re about ready to blow a gasket.

Your only response to Sans asking how your day went is a noncommittal grunt, and you don’t even glance his way as you answer. And it’s about the same time that you realize you’re missing something. 

“Forgot my purse, be right back,” you say, before darting back around the corner to the front of the bakery. Muffet’s still there so you simply slip in and out in a minute, ourse safely slung over your shoulder. 

As the bakery door swings shut behind you, you’re struck with how  _ cold  _ it is today. If the cloud cover is any indication, you’re in for one hell of a snowstorm tonight. While you hold your work outfit in high esteem in regard to its sex appeal, it’s certainly lacking in proper coverage. And you’re not the only one to notice that.

On the walk back to your car and to Sans, you hear a voice behind you.

“Hey sweetie-pie, it’s a little cold for  _ that  _ kind of outfit, huh?”

You stop short in your tracks and look over your shoulder. Shit. You’re being followed by three guys. They look like total assholes.

“Want us to warm you up, darlin’?” says the tallest one, words dripping lecherously from his mouth. Your eyes narrow. You are really  _ not  _ in the mood to deal with this today.

You turn around and stand your ground, arms crossed with what you can only hope is fire in your eyes. “Why don’t you go fuck yourselves, assholes?”

There’s less than a second filled with your pounding heart before they run for you, rage on their faces. You’re ready to run but before you do anything all three of them are surrounded in a blue sheen you’ve seen many times before. Looking over, you see Sans standing there, sweat beading down his face and his arm outstretched. He brings it down, and with it go your attackers. You hear bones crack.

“You leave her the  _ f u c k  _ alone,” he spits out, voice dangerously low. With another movement they go sailing into an alley. The ‘thud’ that sounds when they hit the ground is sickening. 

Satisfied that they won’t be getting up again, Sans turns to you. “Let’s get out of here.”

The drive back is just as silent as the drive there, maybe even more awkward. You know you should say thank you, at least  _ act  _ thankful, but you can’t. You’re still angry, and if anything, it’s gotten worse. You would have been fine, you would have made it out without Sans’ interference. And now, you think, he’s going to have even more reasons why you shouldn’t be leaving the house. Great.

You don’t say anything once the two of you are home, instead going upstairs to change out of your work clothes. Choosing comfort over fashion, you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a pullover from when you were a camp counselor. You don’t really want to go downstairs and potentially have to talk to Sans, but you’re hungry, and all the food in the house is kept in the kitchen. Plus you have a feeling that Sans will come upstairs if you’re up here too much longer. 

He’s on your case before you can even get through the living room.

“Hey, you feeling alright?” he asks, gently touching your arm. You look up at him, and his expression is a mixture of confusion, anxiety, fear. An overwhelming feeling of guilt washes over you, but you ball it up. You’re pissed at him, goddammit. And you’re going to stay pissed.

So instead of giving him a verbal response you shrug and continue towards the kitchen. Unfortunately for you, Sans isn’t having any of that and grabs your arm, forcing you to face him. “Babe, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The guilt vanishes. “Don’t call me that,” you say, pulling your arm out of his grip. His look of utter confusion is just fueling your anger now. Why can’t he figure out what he’s doing wrong? Why you’re acting the way you are?

His face takes on the same anger you possess now. “Why are you acting like this? What is  _ wrong  _ with you today?”

“What’s  _ wrong _ with me?” you parrot, your voice raised. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that you obviously  _ don’t  _ trust me like you said you did!”

“What, you mean with those guys outside of the bakery?” Sans’ voice is just decibels short of shouting. 

“I had it handled,” you say. “You didn’t need to swoop in and protect me!”

He takes a step towards you, left eye flickering blue for a second. “Oh, didn’t I? Yeah, you  _ totally  _ had it handled! That’s why you were about to  _ run away  _ from them _.”  _

“Oh, fuck you!” The words are spewing forth now, like a dam that’s sprung a leak and is now crumbling before the force of the water behind it. “I would have been  _ fine _ ! I was fine for twenty years before you showed up in my life! Safer, in fact! Every bullshit thing that’s happened to me since August has been because of  _ you _ !” You poke him in the chest as if to emphasize your point. 

There’s blue in his cheekbones now, and it’s not from a blush. “I’ve been trying to  _ protect  _ you!”

“Well sure, if your idea of protection is keeping me boxed up in the house all day! I can’t live like that, Sans! It’s stifling!”

“It’s for your own good! I’m trying to keep you  _ safe _ !” 

You should stop. You  _ need  _ to stop. And if the dangerous flickering of blue around Sans is any indication, he needs to stop, too. But the floodgates are open now, and nothing can stop the raging waters from consuming everything in their path.

“Don’t try to lock me away like I’m your precious treasure!” you cry, backing up toward the door. “I don’t need that shit! And I don’t need  _ you _ !” You turn away from him as you reach to pick up your keys.

“ _ S h u t  u p!”  _ As he shouts, you feel something strike you and slam you against the wall, knocking the wind out of you. Breathing hard, you slide down to the ground. That tingling feeling...it’s the same as when you teleport with him. All of a sudden it hits you. He used his magic. To  _ hurt  _ you. You almost can’t believe it.

As you scramble up off the ground, you watch him look from his hand to you, face frozen in shock. He must not believe it either.

“, please, I’m so sorry, please baby,” he chokes out, taking a step towards you, his hand reaching out. But you can’t deal with this.

“Don’t  _ touch  _ me!” you shriek before wheeling around, grabbing your car keys and dashing off into the night.

He doesn’t try to follow you.

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally no one is happy with this (except me, HA!)
> 
> I look forward to your angry rants and tearful begging in the comments section.


	28. Apologize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, I got this out to you really fast because I didn't want to leave you with such a terrible cliffhanger for very long.
> 
> very sorry about that. 
> 
> yep. very sorry.

You’re hyperventilating as you start the car and peel out from the street. The warning light on the car flashes at you, but you pay it no mind. You’re a little preoccupied right now. 

The town center flashes by as tears fall, blurring your vision just slightly. You feel so overwhelmed; so much has just happened and you’re having a hard time processing it all. 

That was a bad fight. A  _ really  _ bad fight. You’re shaking, clenching the steering wheel as hard as you can. Now, when you’ve calmed down from the adrenaline and your blood pressure’s returning to a normal level, you’re having trouble figuring out why you reacted so poorly. 

Today has been a bad day in general, starting with that news report. And instead of talking to Sans, telling him  _ anything  _ about what was bothering you, you just kept it all bottled up. Your mom always tells you not to hold in your feelings. And now you realize that she was right. Just like a shaken bottle of soda, your emotions and fears exploded and you couldn’t stop them. 

Just remembering what you said makes your stomach turn. You were  _ unbelievably  _ unfair. Sans really is just trying to protect you, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d probably be  _ dead  _ right now without him. 

You take a few shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself down. God, what a shitty day. You can’t wash the look on Sans’ face after his magic struck you from your mind. It had  _ hurt _ , getting thrown into the wall, but one look at his face and it was obvious it was an accident. He just lost control of his magic, and you certainly weren’t helping. But you were too far gone for that to register then. 

His face had been full of shock. Of fear. He was worried you would panic. That you’d leave him. 

And well,  isn’t that kind of what you did? The things that could be going through his mind right now…

It’s this thought that pulls you out of autopilot. You’re not even sure where you’re trying to go. You’re kind of just...driving. But you have to go back. You need to reassure Sans that everything’s okay. But to do  _ that,  _ you need to figure out where the hell you are. 

The headlights illuminate a sign on the right side of the road. South I-35. Okay, simple enough. You just need to find an exit and get back on the freeway going north, and you’ll be back home in no time. Everything will be fine. 

At least, that’s what you think until the car hits a patch of ice and goes skidding into the ditch. Shouting profanities, you’re helpless as the nose of the car pitches forward, the snow providing just enough cushion to keep the airbags from going off. 

You groan in frustration, getting out to inspect the damage. The snowfall is getting pretty heavy, and you’re glad you’re wearing the clothes that you are. Still, a sweatshirt isn’t much against the bracing cold of a Minnesota winter. God, you  _ really  _ didn’t think through this whole “running away” thing very well at all. 

The car itself seems fine, the fresh snow in the ditch a perfect protection from damage. But there is no way in hell you can get it unstuck without the help of a tow truck. 

You decide to call Sans. He needs to know that you’re okay and not leaving him, first of all. And he can teleport you out of here in a second. You can lock up the car and come back for it in the morning, once it’s light and less icy. Heck, Sans could probably use his magic and pull it out of the ditch. 

As you dial him, your stomach starts twisting in knots. What is he thinking right now? Did he do anything drastic after you left? You certainly hope not. 

It rings a few times before going to voicemail. As the default message plays (Sans never felt the urge to make one of his own), you take a deep breath. Maybe this is better. You can apologize, say what you need to say, without any interference on his part. 

So you do. You tell him you’re sorry, that you were stupid. You tell him what happened, where to find you, and to please hurry. You end the message with an “I love you”, and then you take a seat in the tilting car to wait. At least the car’s still on. You decide to charge your phone while you wait, plugging it in and turning the ringer on so you can hear if Sans or someone else tries to call you. 

You also keep a watch out your back window for passing cars, in case someone can help you out. Maybe a truck with a tow cable will drive by. 

You haven’t been waiting five minutes before an SUV ambles up alongside you. The person on the passenger’s side rolls down his window and you step out of your car so you can talk to him. 

“Run into some trouble there?” he asks. You nod. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a way to get my car up on the road, would you?” It’s a long shot, but worth a try. 

The man shakes his head. “Nah, sorry. But we can take you to a hotel or something. How about that?”

Okay, this guy might seem nice, but you’ve seen enough crime shows to know how this might play out. Besides, once Sans gets your message he’ll be here in an instant. “No, thanks. My boyfriend’s actually coming to get me. He should be here any minute.” That’s a blatant lie, but this guy’s starting to rub you the wrong way. You wish Sans would check his goddamn phone. 

The man in the passenger seat leans back in his chair, and when you see who’s driving, you let out a gasp. 

“We’re not asking, sweetheart,” says the man from the dumpster. 

Immediately, you try to run. To the car, down the road, into the snow-covered field,  _ anywhere.  _ But a strong arm grabs you around the waist, and a funny-smelling cloth is slapped over your face. You try, strain not to breathe it in, but the sheer panic you find yourself in forces you to. 

Your movements slow, and your vision fades to black.

* * *

 

When the door slams behind you, Sans makes no move to react to the noise. 

He is frozen still, unable to move. Paralyzed by what you said, what  _ he  _ did. The way you looked at him. 

He knows that face. He’s seen it before, in timelines where Frisk would step out from the Ruins, shivering and covered in dust. Or when Chara would abandon them right before Sans struck the killing blow. Or when he attacked those assholes who threatened you the first time, back in August. 

But this time the fear was on  _ your  _ face. Put there by none other than  _ him.  _ Because he attacked you. 

He is so unbelievably angry with himself. How could he lose control like that? He can’t stop replaying that sickening ‘thud’ of your back hitting the wall. It’s a broken record in his mind. 

Thud.  _ Thud.  _ **_Thud._ **

And the way you  _ looked  _ at him. The way your face twisted when you told him not to touch you. He felt the pain all the way down to his soul. 

He stands there, staring at the wall, letting the weight of his actions sit on his shoulders. God, all he’s ever wanted to do is  _ protect  _ you. He loves you so much, more than anyone in his life save Papyrus. He would do anything to make sure you were safe. But now he’s messed that all up. He wouldn't be surprised if you decide never to come back. At this point, he wouldn’t blame you. 

Eventually, after what feels like hours, his shoulders relax. His jaw unclenches. He falls back onto the couch with an ‘oomph’. At the moment, he wants nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up to you coming home. 

Before he can, however, a blinking light catches his attention. His phone. Picking it up, he sees there’s a missed call and voicemail from you. He sighs. Here it comes. You’re breaking up with him. You’re leaving. You never want to see him again. 

Resigned to his fate, he pulls up the voicemail and presses the ‘Play’ button. 

“Hey,” comes your voice. It sounds thick, a little choked up. Like you’ve been crying. The tight pressure around his soul increases ever so slightly. 

“Oh God, Sans, I am  _ so sorry _ ,” you say. “I know it wasn’t your fault, I know you didn’t mean it. I was being so stupid, oh my god. You were right, you were totally right, and I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry.”

All the tension disappears, just like that. You’re not mad at him. You forgive him. You’re not leaving him. 

“I, uh.” He hears you chuckle weakly. “The car slipped on some ice, and I ended up in the ditch. I’m fine though, don’t worry. But it’s stuck. Can you come get me? I’m on, uh, I-35 going south, just outside the city. Please hurry. I love you.”

The line clicks off, and Sans doesn’t waste a second before teleporting onto the freeway. Looking up and down, he can’t see anything through the snowfall. Maybe he’s not close enough. He teleports half a mile down the road. 

There, he thinks he sees it, the headlights a beacon in the near-snowstorm. He makes his way over to it, ready to sweep you up in his arms and take you back home. But when he gets to the car, you’re not in it. 

He is 100% sure this is your car. The key in the ignition has a small trombone charm hanging off it. Your keys, your car. 

But where are you?

He pulls out his phone and calls you, jumping when he hears it ring from inside the car. Trying the door, he finds it unlocked. This is looking worse by the minute. 

Taking a look inside, he sees a piece of paper placed neatly on the driver’s seat. Reaching for it, he looks it over, nearly dropping it out of shock. 

It’s a picture of you and him, obviously taken without your knowledge. You’re holding hands. Sans’ eyes pan up to your face in the picture, where your eyes are marred with dark black Xs. 

Attached to the picture is a note. 

**To make a garden grow, you have to kill a few weeds.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate title: the author enjoys making her readers suffer
> 
> hahahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhaha
> 
> (get dunked on)


	29. Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I /promise/ I'll stop giving you guys awful cliffhangers.
> 
> For sure. Totally promised.
> 
> Also I wanna give a shout-out to my Mumford & Sons Pandora station for getting me through this chapter. Especially to "The Ballad of Love and Hate" by The Avett Brothers. Good stuff.

A week goes by before Sans loses hope.

The second he realizes you’re gone, he looks everywhere for any kind of sign. For tire tracks, for blood (God forbid), for anything. No such luck. When he calls Papyrus, he is in a panic, and Papyrus barely understands a word he’s saying. He tells Sans to come home, and so he does, all their friends waiting for him. 

When he explains the situation, the look on everyone’s faces nearly rips his soul in two. He wants nothing more to disappear, to take your place, to have you sitting here with everyone instead of him. 

Toriel must have sensed his thoughts, because she places a paw on his shoulder, forcing him to look her right in the eyes.

“This is not your fault, Sans. This isn’t ’s fault either. It’s the fault of the awful people who took her, and I promise you that we  _ will  _ get her back. They won’t get away with this.” The determination in her eyes gives him the strength to throw everything into looking for you.

But a week with no results takes its toll eventually. And it’s not for lack of trying. The police take the note, analyzing it for anything they can. They suspect whoever took you was behind that double homicide, and Sans is inclined to agree, making it even more imperative that you’re found soon. As the days drag on, however, the likelihood that you’ll be found, especially alive, continues to fall. There’s only so much that can be gleaned from a single picture and note, and nothing concrete without more information.

All Sans knows is that it’s getting much harder to look for you when the part of him that insists on assuming the worst keeps getting more and more powerful. He’s about ready to give up. Throw in the towel. 

The only sliver of hope he can cling onto after a week is the fact that your body hasn’t been found yet. But Sans knows that it’s only a matter of time. How could you still be alive, after a whole week? 

So for the past day or so, he’s taking to sitting in front of the TV and watching the news. If the police find your body, he’ll be the first to know.

How could this all happen in such a short amount of time? Not ten days ago, you two were so  _ happy.  _ Everything felt right. Everything felt perfect. But now everything is ruined. It’ll never be perfect again.

He thinks back to something he said to you, something he had meant with every fiber of his being.

_ “I promise you, I will always be there for you when you need me. Every time.” _

But where was he when you needed him the most? He didn’t come for you in time, and now, he thinks, he’ll never get to see your smiling face again.

This is why he doesn’t like to make promises.

He hasn’t moved from the couch for almost two days, now. He hasn’t touched a bite of food, ignoring the plates Papyrus sets next to him. He can’t eat, can’t sleep. All he can do is watch the news and wait for the inevitable. Maybe if he sits here long enough, he’ll just waste away into nothingness. Take a permanent vacation to the blackness of the void.

It’s when he’s in the middle of these thoughts when there’s a knock on the door. He calls for Papyrus, but there’s no answer. That’s right. Papyrus went with Undyne to look on the trail you biked on with him. The trail where they found the dead human and monster dust. Well, whoever’s at the door can’t be  _ that  _ important. Maybe they’ll go away.

No such luck. After a few second of silence, the knocking begins again in earnest, punctuated with a few rings of the doorbell. Sighing to himself, Sans manages to get off the couch. His bones creak a little bit at the movement. They’re pretty cramped from sitting in the same position for nearly forty hours. Hopefully he can get rid of whoever this is quickly, and get back to wallowing. He steps over to the door and pulls it open.

Nothing could have prepared him for what’s on the other side.

* * *

 

“...do with her?”

“Dunno. Just leave her for now, I guess.”

You surface from blissful unconsciousness just long enough to catch the closing snippets of a conversation but the darkness overtakes you again before long. It comes and goes in waves, and sometimes you can register a few words before you sink back down again.

“Still too soon. The police are swarming around.”

“...should’ve just knifed her instead of bringing her back here. It’d be less trouble.”

You’re not sure how much time passes before you manage to fully gain consciousness.

The first thing you’re aware of is the throbbing headache centered just behind your eyes. It’s making it a little hard to concentrate. But eventually it subsides enough so you can observe your surroundings. You’re confused for a moment, but recalling what happened right before you passed out switches your mind into full alert. 

You’re in a small room, brick on the walls. The door is shut, presumably locked, and out the single window you can see the lake, its edges frozen. Snow is falling, covering the rocks on the water’s edge. 

The view gives you a pretty good idea of where you are. The part of town that backs up to the lake is only a mile or so east of the house. And the brick of the building means you must be in the older part of the town, the part of it that avoided burning down during the many fires in the early 1900s. That part of town functions as a sort of historical museum. 

Okay, so you know  _ where  _ you are now. That’s step one. Now all you need is to get  _ out  _ of here. You let out your breath in a huff, noticing how it condenses into a cloud of vapor. You’re suddenly aware of how  _ cold  _ it is in here. It’s an old building, you suppose. No insulation. At least you’re still wearing your sweatshirt. 

Looking around the room again, you see a thin blanket on the floor. It looks filthy. There’s a bucket in the corner, too. You walk towards it, but one sniff lets you know  _ exactly  _ what it’s used for. Disgusting. As you back up, your shoe sticks to the floor, peeling away with a noise that reminds you of something you heard in a horror movie. 

There’s blood on the ground. Maybe a pint, no more. But it looks old and dry, a dull brown color. Still, that’s really concerning. You need to get out of here.

Stepping over to the window, you inspect it. You brighten up a little when you see that the glass is single-paned. It also looks pretty thin. You should be able to break it if you hit it hard enough. That could be your way out of here. 

Before you can do anything, however, you hear footsteps coming down the hall. Shit. Immediately you drop to the ground, pretending to be asleep. Maybe if they try anything you can manage to slip away.

But you don’t need to worry. The footsteps stop outside your door. You try to calm your breathing so you can listen to the conversation taking place just a few feet away.

“You think it’s time?”

“It’s been a week. The police are probably about ready to declare her dead anyway. We could probably dump her in the lake. That would get the evidence off, right?”

“We’ll take it up with the others in the morning, I guess. ‘S too late to do anything now. Besides, I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”

The footsteps fade away, but your heart makes no move to slow down. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You need to go. Right. Now.

Standing up, you walk over to the window. You don’t know how loud the breaking glass is going to be. You might need to work pretty fast. Bracing yourself, you raise your elbow, and slam it right into the center of the pane.

It works. Cracks spiderweb out from the center, where there’s now a gaping hole. The force of the impact hit your funny bone the wrong way, but you shake it off. The noise of the glass shattering was pretty loud. 

Balling up your fist in the sweatshirt, you start to punch out the leftover chunks of glass, until there’s a decent-sized hole in the window, big enough for you to squeeze through. Wasting no time, you hoist yourself up onto the windowsill and push your way through. The glass cuts into your face, but you pay it no mind. Your adrenaline is pumping all the pain out of your body and replacing it with raw energy.

Once you’re through the window, you drop down ten feet and land in a snowbank, elbows and knees hitting first. Satisfied that nothing is broken, you shoot up, trudging your way out of the bank. Once you’re clear, you sprint down the street, not even daring to look back.

You’ve never run so goddamn fast in your entire life. You feel like you’re flying down the road, like nothing could stop you. Dark shops and bustling bars rush past, and you swerve through a crowd waiting to see a late night movie. 

If you stop, you think, someone will catch up with you and take you back. So you don’t stop. You don’t slow down, you just keep running. But your legs are burning, and you need to stop and breathe. 

A few blocks down from your street you duck behind a tree, its pine needles shielding you from the view of the road. It’s here you’re able to catch your breathe. You know this street, and you know you’re so unbelievably close. You can’t imagine what everyone thinks. How long have you been gone? Do they think you’re still alive? What if they think you’re dead? Oh God, if Sans thinks he drove you to your death…

No matter. You’ll see him in a minute and everything will be okay. It’s this thought that pushes you to jog the last little bit to the house, despite the screaming protests from your legs. 

When you reach the door you knock on it. Hard. You can hear the TV playing, someone must be awake. You hear Sans’ voice, calling for Papyrus, and then silence. No one comes to the door. Goddammit Sans, get up.

You knock again, adding a few ‘pings’ of the doorbell for good measure. From inside, you hear the couch creak, and you instinctively try to smooth your hair, nearly getting your fingers stuck instead. 

When the door opens, Sans is standing there. From one glance at him, you can just  _ feel  _ the hopelessness radiating off of him. His sweatshirt is crumpled, his eyesockets drooping. It looks like he hasn’t slept a wink since you were kidnapped.  

But when he focuses on you, you see the points of light in his eyes brighten just slightly. His head perks up a little. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but before you can you’re wrapped in a crushing hug, the force of it enough to lift you up off your feet. You return the gesture, burying your face in the crook of Sans’ shoulder. You feel drops of wetness drip onto your neck, and you realize that Sans is crying. That’s when the tears come unbidden to your eyes.

The two of you stand there on the porch for a few minutes, sobbing into each other. It feels like all your emotions, all your fears, all your anxieties, are coming out right now, right here. 

Eventually, reluctantly, you pull back from him. Even through the blue tears shining on his face, he gives you the most brilliant smile, his hand coming up to wipe the last remaining tears from your eyes.

“I-I thought I’d never see you again,” he says as you head inside, closing the door behind you.

You smile. “What? You can’t get rid of me  _ that  _ easily.”

He pulls you into a deep kiss. You can feel him trying to make up for lost time, and you reciprocate gladly, cupping his cheekbones in your hands. When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, your mouths barely an inch apart.

“Good.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "something always brings me back to you,  
> it never takes too long"
> 
> seriously though it legitimately stresses me out to have long-lasting conflict. lucky for you guys, huh?
> 
> I really need to start doing homework, we just passed the midway point of break and I have done NOTHING but write this story.
> 
> So I know I've been doing daily updates since Sunday, but I might take tomorrow off. We'll see.


	30. Restoration and Rejuvenation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some homework today! I promise!
> 
> But I also babysat kids whose bedtime is 8 PM. Which means that I had three hours to do nothing but make sure the dogs didn't destroy the house and write this thing. So I did. I have no regrets.
> 
> Also! I am happy because when I got home from babysitting there was a college acceptance letter waiting for me! Now I have multiple options!

The two of you spend the next few minutes in silence, simply leaning up against each other. It feels so nice, so safe, to be here with him again. 

“Jesus, it must have been horrible for you,” you say, rubbing a thumb over Sans’ bony palm. “I mean, it was for me, too, but I was only conscious for like...the last few hours of it. You were lucid the whole time.”

He squeezes your hand and presses his teeth to your forehead. “You have no idea, babe. I thought you were dead, and it would have been all my fault.”

You sit up, looking him dead in the eyes. “Don’t you say that. I am just as much at fault here as you are. I mean, if I had just  _ talked  _ to you about everything that was bothering me instead of trying to pretend everything was fine, I never would have exploded like that in the first place. It wasn’t fair to do that to you.”

“But I-”

You interrupt him with a peck to the mouth. “No buts. You are hereby not allowed to blame yourself for anything that happened.”

He relaxes back into the couch and closes his eyes for a second. “Fine.” He’s still for a moment before he suddenly starts forward, eyes wide. 

“What is it?”

“We need to call Pap,” he says. “Tell everyone you’re okay.”

You nearly smack yourself in the forehead. Of course! How could you forget about the others? They’re just as worried about you as Sans was. 

“How about this,” you say. “You call Papyrus, and I’ll call the police. I know  _ exactly  _ where those assholes are hiding.”

So that’s what you do. Papyrus’ screeches of joy can be heard from Sans’ phone all the way across the room, but you ignore them, using the house phone to dial 911 and give the police a tip. The operator assures you they’ll respond immediately, and once you tell her where you are and that you’re safe, she lets you end the call. 

Sans, meanwhile, has called both Alphys and Toriel. 

“Okay,” he says. “We got about five seconds before a ten year old ball of energy bursts in here to-”

He's cut off by Frisk barreling into the house and knocking you down onto the couch with the force of their hug. 

“Hey, bud,” you say, ruffling their hair. They pull back and you see the hints of tears forming in the corner of their eyes. 

I thought you were gone forever! 

“Nope,” you smile. “You’re stuck with me.”

Good , they sign before tackling you with another hug. Looking up, you see Toriel enter the house, Asgore and Alphys close behind. You smile at them, Frisk keeping you from leaving the couch. 

“I am so glad you’re alright,” Toriel says, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “When Sans told us what had happened, we were all  _ devastated.” _

Frisk finally lets go of you, but they remain sitting next to you on the couch. Sans takes a seat on your other side, grabbing your hand again. 

“Did you tell U-Undyne and Papyrus?” Alphys asks. Sans nods. 

“They should be here any second.”

As if the Universe itself obeys Sans’ every command, the kitchen door swings open, banging against the wall. You have barely a second to react before you’re hugged with such force that it lifts you off the couch. 

“! I’ve missed you SO MUCH!” Papyrus cries. You grab onto him for stability. “The GREAT PAPYRUS would have NEVER rested until you were found!”

“Nice to have you back, nerd,” Undyne says. But you can see the tenderness in her eyes. God, everyone missed you so much. 

As Papyrus sets you down, you are unfortunate enough to catch a whiff of yourself. You nearly throw up, because you smell  _ horrible.  _ From what Sans has told you, you’ve been gone a week. A whole week without showering or changing clothes. As you think about it, it starts to affect you more, and you realize that if you don't get cleaned up soon, you’re going to feel absolutely disgusting. 

“Hey guys?” you say. Everyone turns to you. “I just realized that I haven't showered in a week. I’m gonna go clean myself up before I stink up the whole house.” Frisk giggles at that one. You stick your tongue out at them and run up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Sans watches you go, and an idea forms in his head. 

“Hey, I, uh, haven't showered in a week either. So I think I’ll take a page out of ’s book and, uh, do that.” Before anyone can put two and two together, he heads upstairs after you. 

Nobody seems bothered by this. Except maybe Papyrus. He’s scratching his skull and tilting his head to the side like he’s thinking pretty hard about something. 

“What’s up, Pap?” Undyne asks. 

“Sans said he was going to take a shower too, just like …” he muses. “But that doesn't make any sense! We only have one shower!”

* * *

 

It feels so incredibly good to peel off your disgusting clothes, dumping them with no remorse into the laundry hamper. You grab an extra fluffy towel, place it on the counter, and reach into the shower to turn on the water. 

It’s now that you feel a hand wrap around your bare waist. 

Turning around, you see Sans behind you...also not wearing any clothing. 

“I thought I’d join you,” he says. You stand up straight, raising one eyebrow. 

“ _ Did  _ you, now?”

He simply grabs your hand and pulls you into the shower, under the cascade of warm water. Oh, that feels  _ good.  _ “I need this shower just as much as you do, babe. We can conserve water. And I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna let you out of my sight ever again, so…” He trails off, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Okay,” you say. “But we’re here to  _ shower.  _ There are  _ people  _ downstairs, for God’s sake.”

“Of course we’re gonna shower. What else could we do in a place like this?” The glint in his eyes indicates that Sans knows  _ exactly  _ what the two of you could be doing. 

You’ve never experienced showering with someone before. Sure, you took baths with your brother when you were five, but this is completely different. It’s not sexual, but it’s comforting. Sans helps you apply shampoo, and even gives you a little massage as he rubs it into your hair. That feels  _ really  _ good. He also helps work the body wash on your back into a foam, filling the room with the scent of vanilla. 

He gets his own fair share of attention, too. You take another bottle of body wash, caramel scented this time (what can you say, you love the smell of food) and work it into a lather between your hands before rubbing at his bones, careful around the areas where you know he’s sensitive. He lets out a contented hum, and you know he’s finally allowing himself to relax after a week of utter panic. 

“We should do that again sometime,” he says after you’re both out and he’s watching you brush the remaining tangles out of your hair. “But, uh, next time, we should do the  _ other  _ thing you were talking about earlier.”

“Don't be gross!” You swat at him with your brush. He sidesteps the swipe and laughs. You roll your eyes. “Go ahead and head downstairs. I’ll be down after I get dressed.”

He leaves the bathroom, but not before catching you in another kiss. Maybe if you go down separately no one will think you were having sex in the shower. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not. 

You slip into a tank top and a T-shirt from one of the bands you listen to and pull on your fuzzy pajama pants. You love those things. After squeezing your hair in a towel to get rid of the extra water, you head downstairs. 

From the way Undyne looks between you and Sans, wiggling her eyebrows, you know at least one person suspects the worst. You shake your head almost imperceptibly back at her, and then choose to ignore her. Instead, you return to your seat on the couch, where Sans and Frisk are having a conversation. 

“Frisk here wants to know why I smell so good,” Sans says. 

It’s weird. 

You laugh. “Yeah, the idea of Sans having personal hygiene  _ is  _ something strange, huh?” Frisk giggles. “But he borrowed some of my body wash. Caramel. You should try it sometime, Frisk.”

They nod, smiling.  You smell good, too. 

“Vanilla,” you reply. You hold out your hair so they can get a good whiff. When they pull back, they send you a thumbs-up. 

“Don’t be flirtin’ with my girl now, kid,” Sans says, trying but failing to look stern. You and Frisk simply dissolve into more giggles. 

It is  _ so  _ nice to have this back. The casual comfort of having all your monster friends (and Frisk) around you. Everyone looks so happy, and you find yourself wishing this moment could last forever. 

Then the doorbell rings. 

You stand up, but Papyrus has the door open before you can walk over to it. You’re pleasantly surprised to see two police officers standing there. 

“Hi,” says the one on the right. “Are you  ?” When you nod, she smiles, extending her hand. You shake it. “I’m Officer Bittner, and this is my partner, Officer Mathison.” The man to her right nods at you. “We worked your disappearance, and we’re just so glad you’re okay. Can we come in?”

“Sure,” you say, leading them into the living room. If they’re surprised to find the place full of monsters, they sure aren’t showing it. With a glance you shoo Sans and Frisk off the couch, giving the cops room to sit down. 

Officer Bittner speaks up again. “We just wanted to stop by and let you know that we arrested everyone who was in that abandoned building. Nobody got away.”

You nod, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

“But,” she continues, “that wasn’t the, uh, only head of the hydra, so to speak. We recovered some documents that point towards a national organization. A terrorist group, if you will.”

“And there was never any evidence of something like that before now?” Sans cuts in, his voice tinged with suppressed anger. 

“There’ve been isolated incidents, like what happened here,” Officer Mathison says. “We never thought it could all come from the same organization. Not until now.”

“So what happens now?” you ask. 

Officer Bittner smiles at you. “It’ll become a federal investigation. We’re going to make sure these guys are brought to justice for what they’ve done.”

“Would you mind providing testimony when the local members are put on trial?” Officer Mathison asks. 

Without having to even think about it, you nod. “Of course. I want to make sure they go behind bars. And  _ stay  _ there.” 

You and the others talk with the police officers for a little while longer, giving them as much information as you can. When they get up to leave, Officer Bittner turns to you again. “Please don’t be afraid to call us if you feel threatened. We’re happy to make sure you’re safe.” She hands you a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. You thank them for everything they’ve done and watch as they get into their car and drive off. 

Glancing at the time as you turn back to the others, you realize that it’s nearly 2 in the morning. Everyone looks  _ exhausted.  _ Frisk looks like they’re about to fall asleep, even. So everyone says goodnight, and once they’re all gone, Sans takes Papyrus up to read him a quick story, and you head right for your bedroom, wrapping yourself up in the blankets. 

It’s not ten minutes later when you hear your door creak open. You turn and see Sans there, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I thought we could, uh, sleep in the same bed tonight?” he says. “Y’know, in case you were  _ bonely _ ?”

“You did  _ not  _ just say that,” you deadpan, but beckon him inside anyway. He slips underneath the covers and you feel his bony fingers twirling in your hair. You let out a content sigh. This is good. This is safe. 

You snuggle closer to him, your forehead touching his. 

“I love you,” he breathes, as if the words could shatter glass if spoken too loudly. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back. 

Knowing Sans is there, knowing that he will  _ always  _ be there for you, makes falling asleep so much easier. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officers Bittner and Mathison are based off of a couple of my cousins.
> 
> Before school starts again on Monday I'll probably only update one more time. I think this story is starting to come to a close and I need to take some time and plan out the remaining chapters so I know how it's all gonna come about. 
> 
> See you guys next time!


	31. Time Marches On*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys may have noticed that I updated the chapter count for this thing. We're coming up to the close real quick here.
> 
> I just wanted to express my thanks to each and everyone of you who have kept reading this story all the way up to now. It means so much to me, knowing that I have a lot of support for what I do. Every time I look at the kudos and views on this thing, I am blown away. I never thought I would ever write something that ended up being this popular.
> 
> So thank you, guys, for putting up with all my ridiculousness these past couple of months. We're not quite at the end yet, there's a few chapters to go.

It takes a few weeks, but eventually everything goes back to normal.

Better than normal, actually.

Every few days, at the very least, you catch a glimpse of a news story or hear something on the radio about federal agents infiltrating a sect of the anti-monster terrorist organization. They’re being brought to justice all over the country and you have never felt safer.

You go back to work at Muffet’s bakery, and you manage to convince her to sell spider cider and other drinks as well. She loves the idea, and business really takes off. You’re happy to see that, slowly but surely, humans start coming in. They’re always a little unsure of themselves at first, but when you give them a smile and they take their first bite of one of Muffet’s pastries, you know they’ll become regulars. 

Classes are starting up in a week and a half, and every time you see Undyne, she’s been perfecting her lesson plans for her new classes. One glance at them convinces you never to take one of her classes. You would  _ die.  _ Papyrus, however, is increasingly excited about the start of his new job. Hopefully he’ll be able to cheer up the poor souls who’ll be taking Undyne’s classes. You know they’ll need it.

Alphys has been working closely with a research university just a few towns away, developing a curriculum for a ‘Monster Studies’ major. From what you hear, the classes will all be taught by different monsters. There’ll be classes on monster biology, history, and culture. There’s even going to be a class specifically dedicated to monster-human relations. Alphys is really excited about it, so you know it’s going to work out. 

Asgore  _ still  _ hasn’t managed to get out of Toriel’s house. At this point, you’re pretty sure he’s never going to leave. Toriel, meanwhile, has been looking into starting an integrated elementary school for monster and human children alike. It makes sense to you. Kids are always so understanding about things that are new and confusing to them. If they interact with monsters from a young age, then when they grow up they won’t be afraid of them or try to hurt them. 

Frisk is a little spitfire, as usual. When they’re not dragging you to their house to play video games, they come over to play in the snow with you. The two of you always try to drag Sans into it, but he usually makes excuses that have to do with work, or he just plain admits his lazyness. But when you can get him to join in, the three of you always have a blast.

Ever since you escaped from the terrorist group, Sans has never been far from you. But you can tell that he’s more relaxed now, too. Every time a sect of the organization is caught, you can almost see a worry line disappear from his face. And he’s been giving you a little more space lately, so to speak. You suppose he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re being stifled. Every time you think back to that argument and the horrible things that were said, you shudder. You never want to fight with Sans like that ever again.

By the time you get off work today, an ingenious idea has planted itself in your brain. You’re silent about it the whole way home, choosing instead to comment on some pigeons you see from your perch behind Sans on the motorcycle. But when you get home, you put your plan into action.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” you say, pulling a headband out of your hair.

“Okay, don’t slip and fall,” Sans says, already in the living room. You roll your eyes. Of course he doesn’t take the hint. 

You walk up behind where he’s sitting on the couch and wrap your arms around him, mouth down by where his ears would be. 

“Wanna join me?”

He jolts around, and you smirk at the hungry light in his left eyesocket. “Hell  _ yes.” _

With the way the two of you won’t let go of each other going up the stairs, it takes much longer than necessary to finally reach the bathroom. Once you’re there, you waste no time shredding your outer layers. You reach over to turn the water on so it can warm up, and feel Sans’ bony fingers pulling down your panties. You step out of them daintily and he tosses them somewhere in the bathroom. You’ll find them later.

Standing back up, you feel Sans’ tongue swirl at your neck, and it sends waves of heat rocking to your core.

“Can’t you-ah-wait until we’re in-hmm-the shower?” you pant out, Sans’ hands coming up to knead at your breasts.

“Can’t wait,” he mumbles. Before you can give yourself over to the pleasure completely, you take a step away and into the shower. Your turn around and face him, the water cascading down over your head. 

“Well?” you ask. “Are you coming in or do I have to  _ actually  _ shower?”

In lieu of a verbal response Sans closes the distance between you, stepping over the shallow wall and sliding the curtain shut behind him. He pulls you in for a kiss, one arm around your back to keep you close. You close your eyes, feeling the familiar pressure of his tongue against yours. It presses deep into your mouth, eliciting a quiet moan from you. Sans pulls back, and smirks at you.

“I bet I can make you  _ louder. _ ”

You have less than a second to react before his hand is at the meeting of your thighs, fingers fiddling with your lower lips. The sudden contact makes your legs weak, and you have to lean back against the shower wall for support.

Sans picks up on this, and a second later he hoists you up by the waist. Taking the hint, you wrap your legs around him and put your hands on his shoulders. There. Much better. 

Now that you’re in a more comfortable position, Sans wastes no time in sliding a finger up into you. The feeling causes you to pant out, and when his thumb goes to circle your clit, the pants turn into moans.

Sans chuckles, eyesockets glued to your face, watching it for any changes. “You like that, huh? Want some more?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He obliges, sliding a second finger inside. Slowly, carefully, he begins to scissor you, and you can’t help but wish there was something more substantial inside. 

Finally, after a few more breathless seconds, you can’t take it any more. “Sans, please,” you force out, your words nearly catching in your throat. “Please fuck me.”

His grin turns absolutely  _ devilish,  _ and you catch the flash of light in his eyesocket before his cock is in the air in front of you. “If you say so, darlin’.” Before you can blink, he slides in, and you let out a gasp at how  _ wonderful  _ it feels to be filled. As he slowly slides in and out, your fingers tighten and your eyes close in anticipation for your climax.

When you finally let go, you let out a breathless, long moan, your insides clenching up from your release. Sans rides you through your orgasm and comes just as you’re finishing. Blue-tinted cum leaks from between your legs as he lowers you back down to the shower floor, watching you to make sure you don’t fall. 

“Heh,” he breathes out, sounding as drained as you feel. “That was a  _ shower _ , all right.”

You simply glare at him.

* * *

 

After you insist on an actual shower because yes, you actually needed one, the two of you get dressed. You slip into one of Sans’ T-shirts (they’re baggy and long, and Sans  _ loves  _ it when you wear them) and a pair of pajama pants. It’s so close to bedtime anyway, there’s no sense in putting on regular clothes. 

Papyrus is over at Undyne’s, planning lessons, so it’s just the two of you for dinner. Neither of you feel up to putting very much effort into it, so you end up ordering a pizza. After it arrives, you sit on the couch, watching a movie.

Once the pizza is gone and the movie finished, you see nothing better to do that to head up to your room and get ready for bed. The day’s events have left you pretty tired.

Sans follows you upstairs. You’re used to that. Every night since you escaped, he’s been sleeping in your room with you, and you’re glad for it. There have been nights where he wakes up from a nightmare and the only way for him to calm down is for you to be there, holding on to him and reassuring him that everything is okay. You’re here, and you’re just fine. There is no force on or below Earth that can take you away from him. Never again.

Tonight, however, the two of you simply lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, talking with each other.

“Ready to head back to school?” he says. You let out a bitter laugh. “Didn’t think so.”

You let out a huff of annoyance. “I have to cut back on my hours working at the bakery, and that’s gonna be hard on Muffet. And me. I love working there.”

He traces the curve of your face with a finger. “Plus, when I get back,  _ Sara  _ will be there. Oh man. Am I gonna rip that bitch a new one.” Why not? There’s nothing stopping you from continuing what you said at the concert. You could tear her  _ apart.  _

Sans laughs. “I know you will. babe.” He’s quiet for a second. “The trial’s in a week.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Hopefully they won’t ask me for too much. I like to avoid thinking about that particular week.”

He pulls you in close. “So do I.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of something. “Ah, shit!”

“Hmm?”

“What day is it?” you ask. You can’t  _ believe  _ you forgot.

“January 20th? Why?”

You barely resist the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. “My birthday is in  _ three days. _ ”

Sans sits up straight. “Your birthday? You never said anything about it.”

“That’s because I forgot! I’m usually home, and we make it part of Christmas, and with everything that’s been going on lately I just...forgot.”

He nods, laying back down on the bed. “D’you want a party? I mean, you’re gonna be twenty-one. Seems like the perfect age to have a party for.”

“That would be really great, actually,” you say. 

The two of you talk aimlessly for a little while until finally, your eyelids begin to droop and your drift off into blissful sleep.

* * *

 

If Sans had to pick the next great mystery of the Universe, it would have to be how much he is in love with you. Sometimes it physically pains him. You’re like the eye of the hurricane, you’re a lifeguard to a drowning man. You have no idea how much you save him, every day, just by being there. 

These past few weeks, he’s been wondering how on Earth he ever made it through one week thinking you were dead. If, God forbid, if you died right now, today, then he might as well die too. You are his sun, his moon. You showed him the northern lights. You are each and every star he can see with the telescope you bought him.

He couldn’t bear it if you were gone. He wants you to stay with him. Tonight, and forever, he  _ needs  _ you to stay.

You grumble a little in your sleep, and his soul leaps at the sound. His arms, already wrapped around your torso, pull you even closer and his chin tucks over your shoulder. This way, he can feel you breathing, physically  _ feel  _ the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest.  _ In, out. In, out.  _

He wonders if, someday, far in the future, you wouldn’t be opposed to something like Undyne and Alphys have. A marriage. Thinking of it that way makes it feel too formal. But you  _ did  _ say how much you love weddings…

He shrugs the thought off. That’s  _ way  _ too far away to waste energy thinking about now. And oh, how Sans hates wasting energy. Besides, he thinks your relationship where it is now is absolutely perfect. He wants nothing more from you, and you show no signs of wanting any more from him. He decides that, for now, to love and be loved is enough. 

But hot damn you are gonna have the best birthday party ever. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates for the next three chapters will hopefully all come within a week. I go back to school tomorrow so that seriously cuts down on my writing time. I mean, today I had to pull some BS about capitalism and the Dust Bowl out of my ass for an essay on The Grapes Of Wrath. 
> 
> But. This has all been fun.
> 
> See you guys next time.


	32. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected I'm so sorry!!!
> 
> My motivation crashed this week, and with all my homework and stress of getting back into the weekly routine, I never found time to write. Plus this chapter was kind of a bitch.
> 
> God, just looking at all the kudos and comments on this thing is enough to freak me out. I never ever anticipated something I wrote getting this popular. I just want to thank you guys so much for putting up with everything I've thrown at you. Y'all keep me determined.

On the twenty-first anniversary of your birth, you spend a good chunk of the day working at the bakery. If you wanted to, you could have taken it off. Muffet would understand. In fact, she had to push you to take the last few hours off. You  _ love  _ the bakery. It’s the best job you’ve ever had. It’s actually pretty fun to work there, and Muffet has even started letting you help her bake when business is slow. 

You leave from work at three o’clock, but not before Muffet forces you to take a few pastries as a gift from her. Eyeing the snickerdoodle she baked a few hours before, you nibble on it as you head to your car.

Sans didn’t take you to work today. He didn’t tell you why; you suspect it has something to do with the party you’re supposed to be having. It makes you kind of excited just thinking about it. It’s been quite a few years since you had an actual birthday party; usually, you would have a small gathering with family. A party with your new friends will be a welcome change. 

As a warning, you text Sans that you’re heading home from work and drive the five minutes home. You probably could have walked, but it’s cold outside, and your outfit isn’t exactly built for warmth. 

Pulling up to the house, you can just sense the bustle going on inside. Your pulse quickening with the excitement, you walk up to the door and test the knob. It’s unlocked. Grinning to yourself, you push open the door and are met with a scene unlike any other you’ve seen in the living room.

For one thing, it’s absolutely  _ spotless.  _ And it’s not just that all the clutter is cleared up and books are reshelved, but everything’s been dusted and you swear there’s a hint of wood polish in the air. A mirror hanging by the stairs is completely free of streaks. It’s almost baffling. 

Then there are decorations everywhere. Streamers in blue and purple wrap around the banister of the stairs and hang down from the ceiling in a pretty pattern. 

As you stand there, absorbing everything in, you fail to notice the occupants of the house looking at you, until in unison, they all shout “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You break out of your observant daze and smile ear-to-ear, looking down at the ground. “Thank you guys so much! It looks so nice in here!”

“That’s Paps and I’s doing,” Undyne says proudly, puffing out her chest. “We cleaned this place floor to ceiling!”

“Sans and Toriel didn’t let us help in the kitchen,” Papyrus corroborates. “So instead we made sure that your birthday party would not take place in a hovel!”

You thank them again and poke your head around to look at the dining room table. Sure enough, it’s littered with food. And, as the centerpiece, a meticulously crafted chocolate cake. You’d recognize Sans’ handiwork anywhere. 

“Aw, you guys are the best,” you say, beaming. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble!”

Sans gives you a wink. “Anything for you, babe.”

“Yes!” Papyrus exclaims. “You are one of our dearest friends and we want you to know that!”

If you stand around and look at everything these wonderful people have done for you, there is no doubt that you’ll start crying. You can already feel the tears coming to your eyes. 

Luckily, the doorbell rings, shocking you out of your thoughts.

“Huh, I didn’t think he’d actually come,” Undyne says. 

“Who is it?” you ask. Instead of answering, Undyne heads over to the door and pulls it open.

“Happy birthday, darling!” Mettaton glides through the door, a gift bag hanging off his arm. “When Alphys told me about your birthday party I just dropped everything and headed over straight away.”

You’re absolutely floored. “Mettaton, you didn’t have to do that!”

He shrugs you off. “Oh please. Like I would miss the birthday party of one of my favorite humans! And twenty-one at that. It’s a big year, darling.”

You nod, smiling. “I guess I’m a  _ real  _ adult now.”

And with that, everyone goes into easy conversation. The food on the table isn’t so much a broad feast as a bunch of snack foods, so everyone just takes food as it’s wanted. It’s great to talk to everyone, but your eyes keep straying to the pile of presents resting on a chair in the dining room. You can’t help it; you’re naturally curious. 

Your casual glances must have been more noticeable than you thought, because all of a sudden Toriel asks for everyone to head to the living room. You take a seat and watch with eager eyes as she and Undyne carry over your presents, setting them on the coffee table in front of you. 

“Are you ready?” Toriel asks. You nod, and Sans pulls down a present from the top of the stack. You recognize it as the gift Mettaton brought for you.

Opening it up, you recognize the expensive brand of make-up. You look up at him, dumbstruck, and he simply smiles back at you, his metallic features portraying an uncharacteristic sense of warmth. Looking through the bag, you find two eyeshadow compacts and a couple shades of lipstick. It all looks exquisite.

Next, Toriel and Frisk’s gift. It’s wrapped carefully, and when you tear the wrapping paper, you find a pair of knitted gloves with white bones decorating the back, and a small cross stitch of a snowman. 

“I would have made you something bigger but this is all I could do on short notice,” Toriel says.

“Oh my gosh no, I love them,” you say, slipping the gloves on to test them out. A perfect fit. “And the cross stitch is so cute!”

Frisk flushes dark pink and you know in an instant who made it. “You did such a good job, Frisk! Thank you so much!”

They sign a ‘you’re welcome’, still looking down at their feet. You simply ruffle their hair and move on to the next gift.

Undyne and Alphys have gone in on the present together again, and you find yourself presented with a necklace that has a small trombone dangling from it. It’s so cute, and you immediately put it on.

“We thought it went well with the earrings we gave you for Christmas,” Alphys says. “You know, because it’s a trom _ bone _ ?”

Sans bursts out laughing as Papyrus shoots her a disapproving glare. You just giggle and thank them again.

Asgore’s present is the biggest of them all. When you look at him for some sort of explanation, he only gestures to the gift. Opening it, you find yourself holding a pot full of soil and a glowing blue flower.

“It’s so pretty,” you say , reaching up to touch a petal. 

“ _ It’s so pretty.”  _

Startled. you nearly drop the pot. “Did it just repeat what I said?

“ _ Did it just repeat what I said?” _

Grinning at your bemused expression, Sans takes the pot from you and places it on the ground. “It’s an echo flower. We had ‘em in the underground. The Waterfall area.”

You nod slowly, still processing the fact that a  _ flower  _ could talk. “That’s...really cool, actually.” You send a smile Asgore’s way. “Thank you so much!”

There’s only one present left on the pile. A quick glance at the tag indicates that it’s from Papyrus. No present from Sans to be found. As if sensing your confusion, he says, “My present’s for later.”

You try to ignore the wolf whistle coming from Undyne’s direction. It proves to be quite a challenge. Instead, you reach for your last present and tear it open. You find yourself faced with a brand new cookbook.

“Now we can cook even more things together!” Papyrus exclaims.

You reach over Sans to give him a hug. “That’s so sweet, Pap! Thank you so much!”

After the wrapping paper has all been cleared away, you all head into the dining room, where Sans and Toriel are busy adding candles to the top of the cake. You do a quick count. Sure enough, twenty-one in total. Toriel uses fire magic to light the candles, and everyone sings as you make your wish.

_ I wish that it only gets better from here. _

Through some unseen force, you manage to get all the candles in one breath. Per tradition, this means your wish is sure to come true. God, you hope so. Once the candles are extinguished, the cake is cut into and everyone is served.

If Sans were your personal chef instead of your boyfriend, you would force him to make his cake for you every day. You can hardly believe how good of a baker he is, with how lazy he generally seems to be. Everyone else seems to think so too; everyone who hasn’t had the cake before is really impressed with him.

After you all finish the cake, the party starts to taper down. Toriel reminds Frisk that they have homework to do, and after the two of them leave, everyone else tapers out. You make sure to thank them all for the gifts, and once Undyne and Alphys head out the door, you round on Sans.

“So what’s my present, exactly?”

He winks. “A secret. We can go in a few minutes, but, uh, you should probably bundle up. The cold might go right through  _ me,  _ but you need a coat or somethin’.”

You raise an eyebrow, but go along with it. Rushing upstairs, you change into a pair of sweatpants with some leggings underneath. Hopefully you’re not going anywhere too fancy. Already growing uncomfortable in the warmth of the house, you head back downstairs. The closet by the front door has your thicker winter coat, and you grab your scarf and the new gloves from Toriel. Add your boots to your ensemble, and you’re ready to go. 

Sans waits for you, holding a couple blankets in his arm. Once he sees you’re ready, he holds you by the waist and you feel the familiar magic swirling within you.

Blink, and you find yourself on a hillside, standing next to a tarp on the snow-covered ground, covered in blankets and pillows. You’re most surprised, however, to see the telescope you bought Sans for Christmas all set up, glinting in the first rays of moonlight.

“What’s all this?” you ask, taking a step towards the tarp. You turn back to Sans, who’s watching you with a soft look in his face. 

“I dunno if you remembered, but there’s a meteor shower tonight,” he says. You gasp in recognition. Of  _ course.  _ Once you’d found out there was going to be a meteor shower happening on your  _ birthday,  _ you didn’t shut up about it for a week. It must have slipped your mind amid all the recent confusion. 

“No, I forgot,” you say. Hesitantly, you take a seat in the little nest on the tarp. “You brought out your telescope for this?”

He sits next to you and takes your hand. “The internet said it looks better through a telescope. Plus I thought you might wanna expand your  _ field of view. _ ”

Rolling your eyes, you still can’t help the snort that escapes your mouth. “That was  _ bad. _ ”

“What can I say? I’m at a loss for words in the presence of such a beautiful girl.”

“You smooth motherfucker.”

He gasps in mock shock. “I would never!”

You give him a light shove. “Dumbass.”

The two of you trade playful insults for the next half hour or so. When Sans notices you shivering, he takes one of the blankets he brought and wraps it around you like a cloak. You snuggle into it, grateful for the warmth it provides. 

As soon as the first meteors start cascading across the sky, Sans goes to fix the telescope, making it sure it points to exactly the right place.

“Here,” he says, nudging you in the shoulder. “Take a look.” So you do.

Through the magnified lens, you can see the heads of some of the meteors as they burn up. Against a backdrop of stars on a navy blue canvas, they look almost magical. You can feel the corners of your mouth tugging up into a smile as you sit there and watch the sky.

After a few minutes, you let Sans have a turn to look, and the two of you switch off, watching rock after rock burn up in the atmosphere. 

When you both have had your fill, you end up laying down in the little nest, staring up at the sky. You can’t help but be reminded of the night you watched the northern lights with him, back in August. So much has changed since then, you can hardly believe it. At the start of the summer you never would have believed you would make so many new monster friends. You never would have anticipated getting caught up in the conflict between hate groups and monsters. But most of all, you never would have imagined dating someone who cares for you and loves you as much as Sans clearly does.

You still wonder if it’s real, sometimes. It all seems like a crazy dream. But when you reach over and hold his bony hand in yours and run your fingers over the bumps of his, you know that what you’re feeling, what you’ve experienced, is all true.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lookit those lovey-dovey nerds.
> 
> Two more chapters, folks! Will the reader's birthday wish come true? Or will everything go to hell in a handbasket? No one knows!
> 
> Except me. I know. 
> 
> See you next time!


	33. Turnabout and New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't pretend to know how courtrooms work. Bear with me. I tried.

“Please state your full name for the record.”

“ ,” you say, cursing your voice for wavering so much.

The prosecutor stands up from her seat and walks over, standing a few feet in front of the witness stand. She gives you a gentle smile. “Could you please tell the court what happened on the night of your attack?”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you let it out. When you open them again, you seek out Sans, sitting on a bench behind the prosecutor’s desk. He and Papyrus are here today to support you, along with Alphys and Undyne. Officers Mathison and Bittner are there as well. They escorted you into the courtroom. The others wanted to come as well, but they’re busy. You appreciate the thought, nonetheless. When your eyes meet Sans’, he gives you a small nod. A way to reassure you that everything’s okay. You turn back to the prosecutor and begin to speak.

“Well, I was driving on I-35 going south when I hit a patch of ice and skidded off the road,” you say. You’ve decided to leave out anything about your argument with Sans. It’s not relevant, and it’s something you’d rather not have to relive. “It was really snowy that night, and I got stuck. So I called Sans, my boyfriend, and waited for him to come and get me.” 

Before you can start again, the prosecutor asks you another question. “About what time did you call him?”

“Um, maybe six?” you suggest. “Six-thirty? My phone probably has a timestamp.”

She nods. “Continue with your story.”

“So I was sitting in the car waiting for him, when an SUV drove up. I know I shouldn’t have gotten out of the car, but I thought they could help me. The guys inside, uh, offered to drive me to a hotel or something, but I said my boyfriend was coming to get me. Then, uh, they got mad, and when I tried to run, they grabbed me and, um, knocked me out.”

After you finish talking, you stare down at your hands, fiddling with them aimlessly. You don’t know why you feel so nervous; you just can’t help it.

“Did you recognize any of the people who attacked you?” the woman asks. You nod.

“Yeah, I saw one of them by the dumpster behind where I work. He dumped some plastic bags in there when I was going to take out the trash.”

She jumps on that. “Did you look inside the bags?”

“Yes,” you say. “There was a shirt or something that was soaked in blood, and a knife. Everything was covered in dust.” Your mind flashes back to the images of a shirt so coated with blood it was literally dripping, and a knife coated with fine particles of dust. Now that you know for sure what all that was, the images make you shudder.

The prosecutor asks you a few more questions before she’s finished. The defense declines the opportunity to cross-examine, which makes you breathe out a sigh of relief. That’s good for two reasons. One, you won’t have to talk anymore. Two, the defense knows it can’t win and isn’t even trying. The judge sends you down from the witness stand and calls a recess.  

Once you’re free to go, you immediately make your way to Sans and the others. They’re standing in the back of the courtroom, waiting for you.

“You did a really good job up there,” Officer Bittner says. “You really helped the prosecution’s case.”

“God, I hope so,” you say. “Did I seem too nervous? I couldn’t seem to stop shaking the whole time I was up there.”

Sans rubs your arm in comfort. “You did just fine, babe. I was lookin’ at the jury the whole time. There was this woman, literally on the edge of her seat. She almost fell off.”

You smile, the mental image cheering you up.

“What do you punks say to getting out of here?” Undyne asks. “The American justice system makes me hungry.”

“Yeah, I could go for some lunch,” you agree. “New Grillby’s sound okay?” Everyone nods, even Papyrus. You’ve come to find out that he doesn’t care for the place. You say goodbye to the officers, thanking them again for everything they’ve done. They assure you that they’ll keep in touch and let you know how the rest of the trial goes. Then you split up, taking two cars to the restaurant. 

Sans drives, and the whole way there his right hand is clasped with your left. You wish he would use two hands to steer, but at the same time, you’re grateful for the contact. The trial had a greater effect on you than you’d thought it would. It wasn’t exactly fun to relive those events, and even if you didn’t bring them up, you still  _ thought  _ about the fight you had with Sans. You know that if you ever have a fight like that again with him for the rest of your days, it’ll be too soon. 

The restaurant is only a few miles away from the courthouse, so you’re there pretty quickly. Walking inside, you listen happily to Papyrus complaining at the scent. You, personally, love the smell of grease and burgers, but you can understand how someone like Papyrus wouldn’t. 

The five of you get a booth, and you and Sans split one side while Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys squeeze into the other. Papyrus and Undyne are pretty skinny, and it gives Alphys and Undyne an excuse to cuddle, so everything’s all good. 

A girl, flaming just like Grillby, comes over to take your order. She introduces herself as Ember, Grillby’s niece. She’s much more talkative than her uncle is, that’s for sure. You and Sans both order a burger and fries, Sans making sure to ask for an extra bottle of ketchup. Alphys and Undyne both get burgers as well. Papyrus is delighted to discover the existence of macaroni and cheese, and once you tell him that it’s a type of pasta, he orders it immediately. You’re glad he’s found something to like here. 

After all your orders are placed, Ember leaves, allowing the five of you to engage in casual conversation. 

“You remember the last time we were here, Sans?” you say, your eyes twinkling at the recollection. 

“Why? What did you two nerds  _ do _ ?” Undyne asks. You smile sweetly back at her. 

“Oh, nothing. Sans just got  _ roasted  _ at his own game.  _ Served up,  _ you could say.”

Papyrus groans. “You two engaged in pun warfare, did you not?”

“We certainly did! And I kicked Sans’  _ ass _ !”

Sans gasps in mock offense. “That’s impossible! I don’t even  _ have  _ an ass!” He gets elbowed in the rib for that. 

Papyrus’ face is set in perpetual disapproval. “Even an establishment such as this should not fall prey to your silly wordplay.”

“It’s all in good fun, Pap,” you say. 

Sans wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Seriously though. She could give me a run for my money. Y’know. Except for the fact that I’m too lazy to run.”

You trade a few more jokes back and forth, much to the dismay of Papyrus, until the food arrives. Ember sets your burger down in front of you, and you look at it with a hungry look in your eyes. The scent alone is enough to drive you insane. 

As you dig in, you catch Sans dumping ketchup all over his food. Whatever. You roll your eyes and continue stuffing your face with ‘burg. However, you  _ do  _ manage to catch sight of Papyrus as he takes his first bite of mac ‘n cheese. His face is priceless. 

“What IS this?!” he asks, voice increasing in volume. “This is FANTASTIC!”

You stifle a giggle. If he thinks this stuff is good, wait until he tries the Kraft version. You’re glad to see Alphys and Undyne are enjoying their meals as well. Just looking at them, the glint of their rings catching the light of the restaurant, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. The happiness they’ve found in their bond is almost tangible. Sighing to yourself, you look over at Sans, only to see that he’s looking your way, too. You smile slightly, and reach for his hand. He accepts it gladly. There’s a twinkle in the depths of his eyesockets, one reserved especially for you. 

You never want it to go away.

* * *

 

Like all good things, winter break must come to an end. You never realize how much free time you truly have until the morning of your first classes of the semester. Getting ready for the day is certainly more hectic than anything you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. 

That is, you wake up with an hour before your first class with no time to eat breakfast. 

Since Papyrus works at the college now, you’re going to be carpooling with him. The two of you leave the house at 7:30 (why oh why did you sign up for an 8 AM class), leaving a note of goodbye for Sans. 

“Are you ready to start you new job, Pap?” you ask through a stifled yawn. 

“Am I ever!” He’s practically bouncing in his seat. You thank every deity you know that he’s a good driver. “Undyne and I have prepared a curriculum that is sure to challenge your peers!”

And once again, you are glad you  _ don’t  _ have any PE credits left to take. “How about I stop by for lunch and we can hang out, okay? I want to hear all about your first day.”

“That would be great!”

The rest of the drive there, the two of you chat aimlessly, and before you know it, you’ve arrived at the college. You only have ten minutes before your first class, so you quickly say goodbye to Papyrus and book it across campus to the English building. Nothing quite like Shakespeare in the morning. You’ll be happy if you get to act out some plays in the class. 

Upon entering the classroom, you see the usual mix of a few friendly faces and several people you’ve never laid eyes on before. A quick scan of the room (which looks mostly full) tells you that Sara’s not in this class. Thank God. You don’t know if you could stand studying Shakespeare in such an atmosphere. 

You do, however, catch sight of Julie. Smiling to yourself, you creep up behind her and grab her shoulders. “Boo!”

She jumps, turning around, only to grin when she realizes it’s you.

“Hey, stranger!” she says. “Were you underneath a rock all vacation? You never texted me!”

You shrug sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry, Julie. I guess everything got really hectic.” That’s an understatement. 

“I heard you got a new job,” she says. 

“Mmhmm. Silk-Spun Creations. It’s a monster-run bakery.” Julie nods in recognition.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Pastries any good?”

You nod. “The best. My boss is a spider monster, can you believe that?”

“You’re dating a skeleton, how much weirder could your life get?”

And just like that, the two of you fall back into easy conversation. It’s crazy how easily your life can just go straight back to normal, despite everything you’ve been through over the past few weeks. You haven’t even been back for ten minutes, but it feels like you never left. 

“So what  _ else  _ happened over the break?” Julie asks. “Besides, you know, your old job literally exploding and getting a new job full of free deliciousness.”

You laugh nervously, and look down at your hands. So much. So much has happened you can hardly believe it’s only been six weeks. It’ll be a long story to tell, and it might take a few days to hammer in all the details. But Julie, your best friend, deserves to know everything. So you decide to tell her.

“Gosh, Julie. Where do I even start?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go. One more before I have to find something else to do with my life. 
> 
> It's been two months since I started posting this fic, but it's gone by so fast. Not a day goes by where I'm not thankful for everything that's happened as a result of me writing this fic. This has been such a good experience.
> 
> I love you guys.
> 
> See you next time.


	34. An Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys this is it. This is the LAST. CHAPTER.
> 
> I seriously don't know how I got this far. This idea was born all the way back in December and now, nearly three months later, it's finished. There are no words for how I feel right now. I'm like...weirdly emotional right now? This fic has consumed my waking days for so long, I forgot what normal life is like. What am I going to do when I don't have this fic to write? I honestly don't know.
> 
> A huge, huge, HUGE thanks to everyone who's read this, whether you popped in on Chapter 1 or just joining us now. I appreciate you all for giving this mess a chance to shine. And thank you SO MUCH to everyone who left me a kudos or comment. You guys are a big part of how I made it all the way here. 
> 
> So without further ado, here it is! The LAST chapter!

_ Four years later… _

By the time the summer after your junior year of college hit, you realized that you never wanted to go back home to your parents. You realized, with a start, that your home was somewhere else. Right here, with Sans and Papyrus. 

When you explained the situation to your parents, they took it very well. You may have left out a few of the grimy details, but oh well. After you told them, you and Sans took two weeks to go back to your old house. He met your family and you packed up the rest of your things. 

You were pleasantly surprised with how well your parents took the fact that you were dating a monster, a skeleton at that. And it only took a few jokes to get your brother to open up to him, too. That two week trip was filled with home cooked meals and brief sojourns to all the local tourist traps. Your personal favorite trip was the one to the dormant volcano a few hours south of your parents’ house. 

“It’s so  _ big _ ,” he said as the two of you looked over the barrier at a pull-out. 

“What, you thought Mt. Ebott was the only tall mountain in the world? Tallest mountain in the southern 48, right there.”

He was amazed at all the snow on the summit in mid-June.

Once you moved in with the brothers for good, you stopped paying rent. Instead, all three of you compiled your incomes to pay for everything. Going from one breadwinner to three allowed you to start doing side projects to fix up the house. Papyrus was ecstatic when you bought a new stove: stainless steel and completely fireproof. You also managed to fix up the basement, putting in a ceiling and painting the walls. You bought a sectional and moved the TV down there, making it more of a den. This became the home of your Xbox, stolen from your parent’s house. You were the only one who ever used it, anyway. Weekly game nights became a thing, and you were surprised at how good Papyrus was when you played Call of Duty. He kicked  _ your _ ass, that’s for sure.

The den also became the new home of the computer. It freed up some space upstairs, and the house overall just became less crowded.

The summer after you graduated, the three of you spent two weeks cleaning out Sans’ room. He mourned the loss of his trash tornado, but you and Papyrus made him see how much nicer it was when it was clean. He didn’t have much time to enjoy it, because later that summer the wall between your bedrooms was knocked down, creating one big bedroom for the two of you to share. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

Alphys and Undyne remained just as in love as they day they got married. You almost never saw one without the other, and you saw them a lot. Alphys’ program in Monster Studies really took off at the big university, and you heard talk of similar programs popping up across the country. Undyne and Papyrus continued to terrorize the students at your alma mater, coming up with uniquely painful activities all the time. 

Asgore opened up a flower shop, cultivating and selling flowers native to the Underground, just like your echo flower. People loved them; they were so different from anything native to the surface. Toriel, meanwhile, was finally able to open the school she’d always dreamed of. The rest of you stopped by occasionally to help out in some fashion. 

Frisk grew from a cheeky kid into a cheeky teenager. They came over all the time to see you and the brothers, and they loved playing on your Xbox. You kept their cross stitch hanging up in the living room, and they thought it was super embarrassing. Of course, this convinced you to keep it up even longer.

You, meanwhile, kept your job at the bakery. Over the years, Muffet’s business grew and grew. She hired more employees, both human and monster. Once she had enough money, she bought another building on the other side of town. She spent most of her time there, and made you the manager of her first building. Of course, you still preferred to work behind the register, greeting the customers and serving them pastries. 

Over those four years, everything felt perfect. You had a slew of friends, practically family by this point. You lived with your first and only love. You thought there was no way you could ever be happier. 

Until the day you were proven wrong.

You wake up that morning as you do most mornings, your body flush against Sans’. No matter how far apart the two of you are when you fall asleep, your bodies shift this way in the night, moving closer and closer together. It’s a Saturday, one of your days off, so there’s no rush in getting up. Instead, you just lay there, watching the sunlight cast shadows across the room as the morning drags on. 

It’s so peaceful, laying here with Sans, that you almost fall back asleep. Before you do, however, Sans shifts around and sits up, meeting your eyes as you look up at him. 

“How did you sleep?” you ask, voice still a little murky from sleep. 

“Like the  _ dead _ ,” he responds, winking at you. You can’t even begin to understand how he can just start the day off with a pun like that. 

You grown in response and sit up, stretching to relieve the tension in your back. A rib shifts into place with a resounding  _ crack  _ and you shoot an apologetic glance at Sans. The noise of cracking bones unnerves him. It makes sense, given he’s made of them. He waves you off, and you stand up, heading over to your closet to pick out some clothes. 

Being in a steady relationship for several years has completely eliminated your boundaries. You have no shame in stripping with your back to Sans, and you hardly even blush when he lets out a low whistle. But you ignore him, shuffling through your closet for something to wear.

“Sans, can you toss me my bra?” It’s on the floor by the bed, and you don’t have the energy to turn around and grab it. 

You don’t receive an answer; instead you feel it hit your back and fall to the floor. You bend down to grab it and send a glare Sans’ way while you’re at it. 

“Hey, you said to toss it!”

After you slip on your bra, you drag down a dress from your closet and pull it over your head. Pants are too much effort today. It’s your day off, you don’t want to use any energy you don’t have to. Once you’re dressed you go across the hallway into the bathroom, where you wash your face and slather on some foundation. It’s a comfort thing. 

By the time you’re back in the bedroom, Sans is dressed in his signature sweatshirt. You’ve tried getting him to branch out more, but he refuses. 

“Want to go see what Pap cooked for breakfast?” you ask, holding out your hand. He nods and takes it. 

When you get downstairs, the delectable scent of eggs and bacon drifts washes over you. You’re awfully proud of how far Papyrus has come in the last few years. He’s completely branched out from pasta dishes now; while he still prefers making spaghetti for dinner, he tries new things all the time. The cookbook he got you for your birthday all those years ago has been used by him just as much as it has by you, if not much more. 

“Good morning!” he exclaims as you head into the kitchen. There’s two plates already set out, and you and Sans each take one and sit at the kitchen table. 

“What’s the scoop for today, Pap?” you ask, pushing around the scrambled eggs on your plate. “Doing anything fun?”

He turns off the stove and comes over to the table with his own plate. “Frisk wants to come over and vanquish the legions of the undead with me!”

Oh. They’re playing Call of Duty Zombies. You approve. 

“That should be fun!” you say. “Maybe I’ll join you guys later.”

You feel Sans’ hand at your back and you turn to face him. “Actually, uh, I was thinking we could do something together. ‘S a special day, after all.”

It takes you a second to remember what he’s talking about. Today is August 7th. It’s not a holiday, it’s not somebody’s birthday, what is it?

Then suddenly, it clicks. “The fifth anniversary of our first date?”

“You got it.” The hand on your back starts rubbing, and a soothing feeling spreads out from the contact zone. “Thought we could do something for it.”

You nod, smiling. You can’t believe you forgot about your anniversary. Even more so, you can’t believe it’s been five years since you made friends with everyone. The time has gone by so fast. “Did you have something in mind?”

The hand moves from your back to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

The noise of a throat clearing alerts you to the fact that you’re not the only two people at the table. Looking away from Sans, you see Papyrus sitting across from you, eyesockets fixing you with a disapproving stare.

“Take your canoodling out of my kitchen!” he says. “This is no place for your shenanigans.”

The two of you look at each other, then back to him. “Sorry, Papyrus,” you recite in unison. 

Once breakfast is finished, the three of you clean up and Papyrus heads over to Toriel’s to see if Frisk is ready to hang  out. Which leaves you and Sans alone in the house. 

“Hey, you know what we should do when we have the time?” you ask. eyes scanning the kitchen.

“Hmm?”

You run a finger along the wall. “We should paint this. I mean, I love pastel pink as much as the next gal, but I think it’s time for a change. Maybe a light blue? Ooh, or a gold! That could look nice!”

He hums in agreement. “Whatever you think is best, babe. But I gotta say, no matter how much we fix up this house it’ll never be as pretty as you.”

If there’s one reaction you haven’t lost since you started dating Sans, it’s the pink that clouds your cheeks every time he compliments you. Right now is no exception, and you turn away from him, ducking your head and letting out a soft giggle. After all this time, he can still render you speechless.

You spend the next few hours curled up with Sans on the couch in the living room. Papyrus and Frisk pass you on the way to the den, and you say hi, telling them to have fun destroying threats to American liberty. Frisk salutes to this, and you laugh. You love that kid. 

Some time after lunch, Sans gets up from the couch and holds a hand out to you. Raising an eyebrow, you take it. He pulls you up sharply, causing you to gasp.

“What’s up?” you ask.

He winks at you. “I wanna show you something.”

Before you can blink, the world disappears and reappears, the magic you are so intimately familiar with crackling in the air around you. When you look around at your new surroundings, you find yourself on the side of a mountain, looking over the scattered houses along the road heading down the mountain. You’ve never been up here before, but you’re pretty sure you know where you are.

“Mt. Ebott?”

Sans nods. “This isn’t too far from where we came out. It’s about where I saw the sunset for the first time. And the stars.”

You remember the story he told you five years ago. The amount of hope for the future and joy at finally being free in that moment, it makes this place very special to him. The fact that he decided to take you here fills you with warmth and happiness, and you lean into him unconsciously. 

It’s a beautiful summer day, and the clouds swirling in the sky remind you of a marble. The scent of summer wildflowers floats around, and the whole scene just makes you feel so content. 

“It must have looked amazing that night,” you say. “God, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t  _ imagine  _ what it must have been like to see everything after being denied for so long.”

His hands rest down on either side of your waist. “Seeing the sun for the first time, that’s gotta be the second best thing to ever happen to me.”

“What was the first?”

His chin rests on your shoulder and you lean your head against his. “You.”

There you go with the blushing again. You turn your head so you can press a kiss to his cheekbone. “Well, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too. Hands down.”

You’re incredibly pleased with yourself when you see a blue tint to his bones. He steps back from you, one hand moving to hold yours.

“There’s, uh, there’s a specific reason I brought you out here today,” he says. You swear you can see a bead of sweat dribbling down his skull. He looks nervous. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You’re acutely aware of the heart pounding away in your chest. He  _ can’t  _ mean...can he?

“A-Ask away,” you say, voice wavering. He retracts his hand from yours and reaches into the pocket in his sweats. Oh God. This is happening right now.

As he draws out the box, he sinks to the ground, one knee up, one touching the grass. His eyesockets never leave your face, and you can feel the white pinpricks of light scanning every shift in expression you make, trying to read you. 

You can feel a tear threatening to spill as he opens the box and holds it in his hands. The ring inside is gorgeous, the sunlight shining off of every perfect facet. You force your eyes away from it and back up to Sans, watching him as he moves to speak. 

“, will you marry me?”

You don’t even have to think about it. 

“Yes!” you cry out, the tears falling freely now, clouding your vision. “Yes, yes, yes!” Your legs are wobbling and your hands are shaking as you reach out to Sans, pulling him up from the ground and into your arms. Hugging him tightly, you can hardly feel the ring being slipped onto your finger, or hear his whispered and fervent ‘I love you’s. 

All that matters right now is that you have Sans in your arms, and you have no intention of letting him go. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you guys were worried it was gonna end badly :)
> 
> So, what's next for me? Well, as I was writing this chapter I realized that one, I'm gonna miss the universe I built here, and two, domesticity is literally my favorite thing to write. So, I have a proposal for you guys.
> 
> The narrative skips forward four years, and I only gave a brief overview of what happened. I'd really like to write a few small one-shots that take place within that time, or even after the end ;) But I need YOU guys to tell me what you want to see!
> 
> Do you want the blood, sweat, and tears of cleaning Sans' room? Or highlights of the trip to meet the reader's family? Or anything else you can think of? Let me know in the comments below and I'll start a separate fic to collect the one-shots in! When I start that up I'll post about it here, so you should subscribe if you want to see that, or check back every so often. 
> 
> I love you all so much, and I'll see you around!


	35. Final addition posted!!

In case you guys missed it, the one-shot collection I started for this story has been posted! I'll be taking all further requests for ideas there. I'm actually working on something for it right now. Expect it within a few days. 

 

See you guys around!

**Author's Note:**

> I am a small lonely child so please come bother me on Tumblr at my Undertale blog first-order-determination or at my main rosesandspades713, where I often complain about my life problems.


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